tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71565885219278061752017-08-06T02:38:50.121-05:00Miko and MeCindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.comBlogger216125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-31104467248689678492017-07-29T17:49:00.000-05:002017-07-29T17:50:13.268-05:00Whitewater <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Whitewater State Park – southeastern Minnesota – No mosquitoes, no cell service and no wifi. But I have Tony so all is good. We came down here for a short little getaway. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Even though I am reluctant to make reservations, if you wish to stay in a Minnesota state park in the summer, you had better make one. I suppose it is because the summer camping season is so short and people are so anxious to get out and about. I lucked out in that I found probably one of the better sites available from Tuesday thru Thursday. Unaccustomed as I am to making reservations, I actually made the reservation thru Friday and then proceeded to set up a whole bunch of Friday appointments back home. Focus is perhaps a little weak at times. Luckily, the campground folk were understanding and refunded my money for Thursday night. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Tuesday, when we arrived was lovely. We set up our lawn chairs and just zoned out staring at all the mosquito free greenery. It is a real treat to be someplace in Minnesota in the summer without mosquitoes. They say it is because there is no standing water in the area, it is all moving streams and rivers. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Wednesday, it was supposed to rain but after a good soaking in the morning, it stopped raining. We decided that we would do the Chimney Rock hike. It was over 100 steps to reach the top of the bluffs. It was pretty steep but really lovely. When we get to the top of all of these steps, there is a map. I look at it and figure out which way I am supposed to go to get to Chimney Rock. Tony, knowing how map challenged I am chooses to sit on the conveniently placed bench and wait for my return. Clever man as I, of course, picked the wrong way. If I had gone left, Chimney Rock was maybe a five minute walk. I went right and walked for about a half hour before I decided that I was perhaps going the wrong way. It was really a pretty walk, there were several outstanding views over the river valley, but because of the rain, there was also a lot of slick mud. I'm really grateful that I had my walking stick. I never did get to see Chimney Rock, only the most popular sight to see at Whitewater. Oh well.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9NgKJEtaUAo/WX0O7JMlJTI/AAAAAAAAE68/PB8FMjsO3xQv7fv6r9oYc2VUrj3R6LTUgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0800%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9NgKJEtaUAo/WX0O7JMlJTI/AAAAAAAAE68/PB8FMjsO3xQv7fv6r9oYc2VUrj3R6LTUgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0800%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zMl_vLsUWCI/WX0O65MDGQI/AAAAAAAAE7A/LgY-KNC0TckHlKUACjsck-MYpPB3juQRACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0801%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zMl_vLsUWCI/WX0O65MDGQI/AAAAAAAAE7A/LgY-KNC0TckHlKUACjsck-MYpPB3juQRACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0801%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IS-F5LOt3S0/WX0O6-WnHDI/AAAAAAAAE64/CX49QHxaBL4zFYlwKDQjquNXQnKU828cQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0802%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IS-F5LOt3S0/WX0O6-WnHDI/AAAAAAAAE64/CX49QHxaBL4zFYlwKDQjquNXQnKU828cQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0802%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KeclKUx3hkg/WX0PN2uLZNI/AAAAAAAAE7E/9y7Qx7uXdkMPbJ7OKeCGteFsIfPGIUEJACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0804%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KeclKUx3hkg/WX0PN2uLZNI/AAAAAAAAE7E/9y7Qx7uXdkMPbJ7OKeCGteFsIfPGIUEJACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0804%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VipGthQr6Yg/WX0PTKPFp3I/AAAAAAAAE7I/q8FIKkdpmoIvrU8YKl0CgtSOPcq4AwDUACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0803%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VipGthQr6Yg/WX0PTKPFp3I/AAAAAAAAE7I/q8FIKkdpmoIvrU8YKl0CgtSOPcq4AwDUACLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0803%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When we get back to the campsite, it starts to rain. My phone goes off with severe thunderstorm warnings. Ok, fine – but then the phone tells me we have a tornado warning also. It is pouring down rain. We decide we should maybe head for shelter in the campground shower house. As we are heading over there, a ranger drives up and tells us we need to evacuate. When we get to the shower house, I decide that we should go into the Women's side, the reasoning that it would probably be cleaner. I guess I was basing that on past experiences. Later on, we talked to some people who were in the Men's side of the shower house. His reasoning was that the southwest corner of a building is supposed to be the safest place to be in a tornado. Guess who had a more valid reason for which side to choose. Fun Fact: Southwest corner safety is a myth – no part of a building is safer than another during a tornado&nbsp;– staying away from windows is the key. We were in the shower house for about an hour and a half and eventually walked back to the campsite all safe and sound. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mtz_vy4Q9aM/WX0PgEyFBfI/AAAAAAAAE7M/22ojgBSZGPwMG_dDW8wZMttZGXEWxbozgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0807%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mtz_vy4Q9aM/WX0PgEyFBfI/AAAAAAAAE7M/22ojgBSZGPwMG_dDW8wZMttZGXEWxbozgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0807%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miko, of course, chose the safest place to be</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Later that night, we found that we were parked in the middle of a lake. Seriously, the water around the RV was above my ankles. My door mat was floating several feet away. By the next morning, most of the water had drained away but it was muddy. Since we were leaving that day, we decided to do a short hike around a meadow. Pleasant enough except for the parts where there was still standing water and we had to trail blaze around the&nbsp;little lakes on the trail. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c1GmU57l4jM/WX0PyUnNJ9I/AAAAAAAAE7Q/jOMMUassGSYbka3cy3BTZ_Sp2Dni4jxSQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0808%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c1GmU57l4jM/WX0PyUnNJ9I/AAAAAAAAE7Q/jOMMUassGSYbka3cy3BTZ_Sp2Dni4jxSQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_0808%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, the mat is floating</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Since I had no cell service, when we left the park, I could not use my stand by travel assistant – Google Maps. We ended up going along some of the smaller highways, which I thoroughly enjoyed. These roads are always much more entertaining than the big interstates.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I would love to go back to Whitewater – maybe actually see Chimney Rock and do some more hiking. There were some new experiences and I got to share them with Tony. I'm not sure being evacuated to the shower house because of a tornado is something that will make him want to continue this camping adventure, but I guess it was a&nbsp;unique way to spend the night.</div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-84160788694663983372017-05-19T20:07:00.002-05:002017-05-19T20:07:43.593-05:00Home Again, Home Again <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I spent a night in a little Missouri state park called Weston Bend. It is just a tad north of Kansas City and the sites were all nice, wooded and there were some trails to explore. There was also a dog park but I'm finding that dog parks really don't seem to thrill Miko too much. She is polite, greets other dogs, but just wants to stay with me and not go play with them. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ioWXrRCO3tA/WR-Wcm3_ibI/AAAAAAAAE5w/CAEgCs0N1Vgb1kkIi-A6rVfERQ5hS_FWwCLcB/s1600/Weston%2BBend%2BState%2BPark%2B-%2BMissouri%2B%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ioWXrRCO3tA/WR-Wcm3_ibI/AAAAAAAAE5w/CAEgCs0N1Vgb1kkIi-A6rVfERQ5hS_FWwCLcB/s640/Weston%2BBend%2BState%2BPark%2B-%2BMissouri%2B%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">West Bend State Park site</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I moved on to Pender Nebraska, a small little town, in the middle of nowhere, in between Omaha and Sioux City. I had an appointment to get my tow bar serviced. I had been having trouble with the tow bar, the arms were intermittently not locking. This can cause all sorts of problems because if the tow bar is not locked and I take a turn, the tow bar could bend. As it was, when the technician took apart my tow bar, some of the innards were a little bit bent. He fixed me all up and I bought a few spare parts for future use. For $35 dollars, I got my tow bar fixed and I had a free place to stay. Such a deal. I won't mention how much I spent on spare parts. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FMCFviz_VZE/WR-Wn8zyuUI/AAAAAAAAE50/uAvb-u7kuas4aU0_p_e1SdDtPEWOQFPxQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0730rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FMCFviz_VZE/WR-Wn8zyuUI/AAAAAAAAE50/uAvb-u7kuas4aU0_p_e1SdDtPEWOQFPxQCLcB/s640/IMG_0730rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nebraska</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This being Nebraska, there were severe thunderstorm warnings all night long. The next morning, during a break in the rain, we took off and ended up in St. James Minnesota. It was a miserable drive, intense downpours – but the roads themselves were not too bad. As soon as I got to St. James, my phone tells me that not only am I still under a severe thunderstorm warning but just for fun let's throw in a tornado watch. I've got my weather radio going and I am strategically parked next to the shower house which is the storm shelter. It can't be all that bad – off in the distance I'm seeing blue skies. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Got the RV all cleaned up and drove another two hours to my RV storage place. Made it safely, no car fires, no drama.&nbsp; I drove for four days in a row - definitely too much for me nowadays.&nbsp; I guess I have slowed down.&nbsp; It is nice to be home.&nbsp;</div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-11868242471667514962017-05-17T16:12:00.001-05:002017-05-17T16:12:45.913-05:00Eureka Springs<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Eureka Springs – located about as far north as you can get in Arkansas without straying over into Missouri. At last count, there is supposed to be 63 natural springs – guess that is where the name came from. It used to be a mecca for people wanting to be healed but since the Health Department has declared that perhaps it is not maybe in your best interests to 'take the waters', Eureka Springs has become more of a tourist town.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">As is my nature, when I first get to a town, I like to do a city overview, if possible. In Eureka Springs, this takes the form of a open air tram ride to most of the town sites. There were Victorian houses, the haunted Crescent Hotel, a 65 foot statute called Christ of the Ozarks and a very touristy downtown with very very narrow streets. I'm really glad I wasn't doing the driving. The guide was your typical corny tour guide but he seemed to have found his audience among the 48 tourists. The tour was about 90 minutes and it was a pleasant afternoon to be driven around.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ctRpGEKLnSA/WRy52zfVYgI/AAAAAAAAE4Y/tYUqbRfgOc8rRhl8rT_cov3LBkX5JE_IwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0675rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ctRpGEKLnSA/WRy52zfVYgI/AAAAAAAAE4Y/tYUqbRfgOc8rRhl8rT_cov3LBkX5JE_IwCLcB/s640/IMG_0675rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There is a place called Quigley's Castle that I needed to see. In the forties, Mrs. Quigley designed a house which Mr. Quigley said he would build for her. She got a little impatient, waiting for him to build the house. One day, when he left for work, she and her children tore down the house they were living in. When Mr. Quigley returned from work, he had to resort to living in a chicken house. Mrs Quigley designed the house so it had two frames. The outside frame was decorated in rocks and shells that she had collected over the years. The inner frame was several feet inside the outer one and in that space between the two frames,there was no floor, there was just dirt where Mrs. Quigley planted a garden. Some of the two story plants that are there are over sixty years old. Mrs. Quigley had a lot of energy and ended up putting stones and crystals everyplace. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RUfRvgiQkKE/WRy6DDaiTEI/AAAAAAAAE4c/TnBFIsTo2hs4XedR1iYqxevHru5c3iJUwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0679rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RUfRvgiQkKE/WRy6DDaiTEI/AAAAAAAAE4c/TnBFIsTo2hs4XedR1iYqxevHru5c3iJUwCLcB/s640/IMG_0679rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Castle</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tpL6xzOloiU/WRy6DxAm7oI/AAAAAAAAE4g/AV6KuALPHa0F1hiG4DODc8ePrt-FLe4owCLcB/s1600/IMG_0682rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tpL6xzOloiU/WRy6DxAm7oI/AAAAAAAAE4g/AV6KuALPHa0F1hiG4DODc8ePrt-FLe4owCLcB/s640/IMG_0682rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inner/Outer Frame</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uBy0JE4Gwgw/WRy6cp4wZ_I/AAAAAAAAE4k/kxFMB8QL3eE9PM9U5_ZJfUfzjFpkQRKNQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0685rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uBy0JE4Gwgw/WRy6cp4wZ_I/AAAAAAAAE4k/kxFMB8QL3eE9PM9U5_ZJfUfzjFpkQRKNQCLcB/s640/IMG_0685rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Goldfish Tank</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mWh7QI_ry6Q/WRy6dP5WsgI/AAAAAAAAE4o/FXZAwrW7e_svaTrWByJQ20D1toyZuopGQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0688rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mWh7QI_ry6Q/WRy6dP5WsgI/AAAAAAAAE4o/FXZAwrW7e_svaTrWByJQ20D1toyZuopGQCLcB/s640/IMG_0688rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The second story - plants growing up from below</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R_r1Qfy-oLw/WRy7HlUZ-oI/AAAAAAAAE4w/G7z9Z-VbD1YF_cGNtsRQcdvnrhgJtyIfACLcB/s1600/IMG_0689rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R_r1Qfy-oLw/WRy7HlUZ-oI/AAAAAAAAE4w/G7z9Z-VbD1YF_cGNtsRQcdvnrhgJtyIfACLcB/s640/IMG_0689rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mrs Quigley's Butterfly Wall - one whole wall in an upstairs bedroom</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bRT66e08VYg/WRy7IOQ9xCI/AAAAAAAAE40/T8U91jgCGpAx8j1vszn4nDdXa7IEjP0aACLcB/s1600/IMG_0693rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bRT66e08VYg/WRy7IOQ9xCI/AAAAAAAAE40/T8U91jgCGpAx8j1vszn4nDdXa7IEjP0aACLcB/s640/IMG_0693rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mrs. Quigley collected rocks - Mr. Quigley collected bottles</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AxyH4-q6sPQ/WRy7iq7zY5I/AAAAAAAAE44/99qftfgCBCwJrfLk0o-_hqmNs1gTj-DxQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0694rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AxyH4-q6sPQ/WRy7iq7zY5I/AAAAAAAAE44/99qftfgCBCwJrfLk0o-_hqmNs1gTj-DxQCLcB/s640/IMG_0694rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mother thinks I put too many pictures of rocks in my blog - Mom, it could be a lot worse</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I felt guilty for leaving Miko alone and so when I got back we decided to go hike around Lake Leatherwood. I chose to do the four mile loop around the lake, forgetting, of course, all the rain that Arkansas had been literally flooded with. It was a nicely marked trail on the first half of the trail until we crossed the dam. There were several creeks that normally you could walk across on stones, but now were about ankle deep. I started regretting the fact that I had opted not to buy waterproof hiking shoes. At the very end of the trail, the flooding got even deeper. I let Miko off leash because of her tendency to try to hop over water. I knew she would pull me over. Somebody had tried to put some logs and boards across the waterway, which I used, but mostly I just resigned myself to getting wet.<br /><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W8Ua3QswJw8/WRy7_uLfRLI/AAAAAAAAE48/ngaF73NFjvQGimxvze76Rwe7jxlA6LusACLcB/s1600/IMG_0701rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W8Ua3QswJw8/WRy7_uLfRLI/AAAAAAAAE48/ngaF73NFjvQGimxvze76Rwe7jxlA6LusACLcB/s640/IMG_0701rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How to get from here to there?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Blue Springs Heritage Center was the home of Blue Springs – a spring that pumps out 38 million gallons of water a day. The walkway around the springs was all flooded out – you could only walk on the upper walkway. It was sort of eerie looking down into the water and seeing a bench that was about three feet under water. It was a little like looking at the Lost City of Atlantis. <br /><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6fvlLOlbwaE/WRy8SfKJI1I/AAAAAAAAE5E/wJQOdgUFQokJCl4YrjvHztTCDiCkRVOiwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0709rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6fvlLOlbwaE/WRy8SfKJI1I/AAAAAAAAE5E/wJQOdgUFQokJCl4YrjvHztTCDiCkRVOiwCLcB/s640/IMG_0709rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The water was actually this color</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vTGQZpNWj-4/WRy8SMAekTI/AAAAAAAAE5A/czLYN_2XL24BvaL7ZEn_1-BXSL3wHAHqACLcB/s1600/IMG_0719rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vTGQZpNWj-4/WRy8SMAekTI/AAAAAAAAE5A/czLYN_2XL24BvaL7ZEn_1-BXSL3wHAHqACLcB/s640/IMG_0719rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper walkway and stairs down to the lower walkway</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Never one to turn down an opportunity for a Junior Ranger badge, I headed over to Pea Ridge National Military Park – site of a civil war battle. The ranger was unable to tell me the difference between a National Military Park and a National Battlefield, even though he said he had tried researching it. I hope he finds his answer. I watched the movie, drove the seven mile loop around the battlefield, impressed aforementioned ranger with the depth of my Junior Ranger answers and got my badge.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-9141335154649498482017-05-15T17:21:00.001-05:002017-05-15T17:21:38.952-05:00The Devil's Den <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The nice thing about traveling in the middle of the week is that you can usually go to a super popular state park and they will have a camping space for you. Sometimes you might even be the only one in the whole park. Since I was traveling mid-week, I was able to pretty much take my pick at Devil's Den State Park in the Boston Mountains in northwest Arkansas. Even better, if I stood outside my RV, in a very particular spot, I would have on again, off again WIFI. The bad news is that I had no cell service at all. I panicked for a bit, because I didn't know about the lack of cell service and I knew Tony would be waiting on me to call for our evening chats. I guess we would have to rely on old-fashioned letter writing. Ok, perhaps that is a bit dramatic, when I could catch a WiFi signal, it would be email.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XHo6txWHhq0/WRooq5-vesI/AAAAAAAAE30/qqYeFR_2qrkcWLe8tajIEldrxSQl0AGVgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0637rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XHo6txWHhq0/WRooq5-vesI/AAAAAAAAE30/qqYeFR_2qrkcWLe8tajIEldrxSQl0AGVgCLcB/s640/IMG_0637rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dam Waterfall Near the Visitor Center - </td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The first trail I was going to do was called the Yellow Rock Trail. It leads to a rock overhang where there is a great view (a long way down) over the valley. It is supposed to be three miles and take about two hours to hike. Somehow I got a little turned around and this hike ended up taking me five hours and many more miles. At one point, I came to a V in the trail. One leg seemed to go down a small hill and end at a cliff. The other leg looked like the trail continued. Nope – that leg dead ended. I went back to the V and could not figure out what to do. I decided to sit on a log and wait for another hiker to come along and that way I could just follow in their footsteps. After sitting there for an indeterminate amount of time and no hikers came along, I figured out that that strategy was not going to work. I crept out toward the edge of the cliff and there hidden behind a tree was a steep switchback going down the side of the cliff. Yay – I was saved. Perhaps I need to work on my wilderness skills a bit.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j7rJkFRaJH0/WRoo_LOEhqI/AAAAAAAAE34/J4MWZvJQ8pAeaT7mXWOyemsSJTBUUgHAgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0646rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j7rJkFRaJH0/WRoo_LOEhqI/AAAAAAAAE34/J4MWZvJQ8pAeaT7mXWOyemsSJTBUUgHAgCLcB/s640/IMG_0646rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yellow Rock - Miko again ignoring me </td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The other trail I did was called the Devil's Den Trail. It was a circular trail and it was a great deal of fun. You had to climb up and down rocks and try to figure out where the trail was. I found that when there didn't seem to be any way forward, if I just stopped and thought for a moment, a way would become clear. There was a baby waterfall on the trail and the last portion of the trail wandered by Lee Creek which was refreshing </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ED6Mn2UYWzI/WRopRk3N8BI/AAAAAAAAE38/JEegOH0uxUcEeKHiExWh1U-my9-IEQCVACLcB/s1600/IMG_0656rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ED6Mn2UYWzI/WRopRk3N8BI/AAAAAAAAE38/JEegOH0uxUcEeKHiExWh1U-my9-IEQCVACLcB/s640/IMG_0656rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Waterfall</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_-k5VtpUsss/WRopjIw_fhI/AAAAAAAAE4A/VOdUp-LHmLkauSPCryY13zzeHMRQakmAACLcB/s1600/IMG_0661rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_-k5VtpUsss/WRopjIw_fhI/AAAAAAAAE4A/VOdUp-LHmLkauSPCryY13zzeHMRQakmAACLcB/s640/IMG_0661rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-5711928573475631542017-05-13T22:32:00.000-05:002017-05-13T22:32:03.854-05:00I Say Petite, You Say Petty <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I was reading my Arkansas Waterfall book and it said that the largest waterfall in Arkansas was at a state park called Petit Jean. When I consulted my Google maps, I found that the park was only an hour drive away and they had available campsites. Change of direction – change of plans. Off to Petit Jean State Park.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">You would think that Petit Jean would be pronounced in the French way, but not in Arkansas. It is pronounced Petty Jean. You can read about the legend of Petit Jean <a href="http://www.petitjeanstatepark.com/history/history-petit-jean-mountain/default.aspx" target="_blank">here</a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miko and I spent the first day at the park running around to all of the trails that were under a mile. Lots of rocks and lots of greenery. I saw the famous big Cedar Falls from an overlook, but I could only see the top half.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5YMJbyOD58E/WRfMRaCgHlI/AAAAAAAAE3A/PLt5Va-a3uwv3zf82Htp7q8bhYSOrU9FACLcB/s1600/IMG_0587rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5YMJbyOD58E/WRfMRaCgHlI/AAAAAAAAE3A/PLt5Va-a3uwv3zf82Htp7q8bhYSOrU9FACLcB/s640/IMG_0587rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palisades Overlook</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gBPrICaPLAw/WRfMSIOO5xI/AAAAAAAAE3E/_KX_0BXFEJYWTxtus3Bg6R3WPqWN_BYmQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gBPrICaPLAw/WRfMSIOO5xI/AAAAAAAAE3E/_KX_0BXFEJYWTxtus3Bg6R3WPqWN_BYmQCLcB/s640/IMG_0591.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q83rp-L1ziY/WRfMtVVPmSI/AAAAAAAAE3M/CYo7bemVaHQQppBUHxFFPjdGDVcHg1SSACLcB/s1600/IMG_0601rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q83rp-L1ziY/WRfMtVVPmSI/AAAAAAAAE3M/CYo7bemVaHQQppBUHxFFPjdGDVcHg1SSACLcB/s640/IMG_0601rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I finally got Miko to look at me.&nbsp; I had to trick her though - I took a picture when she was looking away and when she heard the camera click, she thought I was done picture-taking and looked at me. Sly little puppy.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tqgZ0hXzjSI/WRfMtZ2SmOI/AAAAAAAAE3I/Wlv0oYIwSEsN-qi_NoLEtSrQkffI8SEJQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0606rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tqgZ0hXzjSI/WRfMtZ2SmOI/AAAAAAAAE3I/Wlv0oYIwSEsN-qi_NoLEtSrQkffI8SEJQCLcB/s640/IMG_0606rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top part of Cedar Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I met a wonderful couple, who shall remain nameless, who had moved to Arkansas. We were talking around the campfire about traveling by RV to Canada and the gentleman said that he had a great deal of trouble getting into Canada – evidently Canada is a little touchy about letting people into their country with a police record. Never mind that the offense occurred over forty years ago. Never mind that it was a simple marijuana possession charge. Never mind that this gentleman had actually been pardoned by Governor Bill Clinton. Imagine, he actually had a piece of paper signed by the future president of the United States. I thought that was both a shame (Canada) and also very cool(Clinton).</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I debated whether or not to hike the Cedar Falls Trail, which goes to the bottom of the Falls and was supposed to be the only way to see the Falls in all their glory. The trail was rated as strenuous and 'only those in good shape should attempt this hike'. The first half mile descends more than 200 feet down steps cut from rock by the CCC. This does not sound like my type of hiking. I wasn't too worried about the going down, it was the coming back up that had me worried. I decided to do it. What's the worst that could happen? </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">You had to be careful going down the first half mile. There was a lot of navigating down steep rocky switchbacks. I had to speak severely to Miko who forgot herself again in her never-ending lizard hunt and almost took us over the edge one time. Usually she is great on the trails, especially going downhill. She is quicker than I am going downhill and she knows that when she reaches the end of the leash, she needs to stop and wait for me to catch up. Otherwise she could pull me over flat on my face. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Once we got down the mountain, it was a lovely trail along the Cedar Creek until we got to the payload. Cedar Falls was beautiful. We sat down on a rock and just watched the water come down. It was cool and crisp and very idyllic. I found myself thinking “ok, when we get back, I've got to do this and I've got to do that and....” I had to tell myself to get back into the present moment. All that existed was these Falls – there was no past, there was no future. I ended up sitting there for maybe 45 minutes.&nbsp; It was a piece of cake getting back up the mountain.&nbsp; For some reason, it took me an hour to hike to the&nbsp;Falls and only 45 minutes to climb back out to the top.&nbsp; </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0XoPgp615Bs/WRfNnLE3KsI/AAAAAAAAE3Y/Sq-_Ka2VmDQ4jGuP1ITF3Ce6S5vOt9V1wCLcB/s1600/IMG_0625rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0XoPgp615Bs/WRfNnLE3KsI/AAAAAAAAE3Y/Sq-_Ka2VmDQ4jGuP1ITF3Ce6S5vOt9V1wCLcB/s640/IMG_0625rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cedar Falls - all 95 feet of them</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fZLIElqWPMQ/WRfNnBnkDLI/AAAAAAAAE3c/FsfuUPWEDqwByFeFcR9w7HRWIyau3JUHQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0629rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fZLIElqWPMQ/WRfNnBnkDLI/AAAAAAAAE3c/FsfuUPWEDqwByFeFcR9w7HRWIyau3JUHQCLcB/s640/IMG_0629rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For a little height perspective, check out the person/waterfall comparison. You could go behind the falls and this woman decided to do it. It must have been pretty cold based on how shrill her shrieking was. </td></tr></tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There were two young women, Susie and Chloe, in their twenties, who were camped next to me. We decided to go out and hike the 4.5 mile Seven Hollows (it actually only goes through four Hollows) Trail the next day. They were very interesting women, both had been raised by missionary families – one grew up in Spain, the other grew up in Panama. They also were traveling nurses. Miko likes to lead and be in front, which meant that I was in front. I felt very conscious of the fact that I was about forty years older than them and I really didn't want to slow them down on this hike. I was really moving out. It was a little bit humid. Let's just say I moved quickly beyond the glow, into the perspiring stage and almost immediately into the sweating like a pig stage. I don't know when I've ever sweated so much. It was fun though, the trail was a fun one and getting to know these women was also interesting. We did talk religion, we were coming from totally different viewpoints and it was so nice to be able to talk about beliefs in a respectful interested way.</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hspn-XYz77w/WRfOVhjemeI/AAAAAAAAE3k/1sPCWsL73ZEsskT659u5B9xJGzfLyQd-gCLcB/s1600/IMG_0632rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hspn-XYz77w/WRfOVhjemeI/AAAAAAAAE3k/1sPCWsL73ZEsskT659u5B9xJGzfLyQd-gCLcB/s640/IMG_0632rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chloe and Susie - it was great fun</td></tr></tbody></table><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Two thumbs up for Petit Jean. I would love to come back someday. </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-52441867096623855492017-05-10T17:49:00.000-05:002017-05-10T17:49:10.874-05:00Up To The Mountain <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I moved up into the mountains to a little town called Mountain View. Mountain View bills itself as the Folk Music Center of the World. If you need to buy a dulcimer, this is the place for you. Usually, Mountain View has a population during the year of about 2500 but when Bean Fest happens, the population swells to over 30,000. The Arkansas also has a state park here which is called the Ozark Village State Park which was my primary draw. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The State Park is set up like a small village. Each of the buildings has some sort of Ozark craft focus where you can learn about various crafts. Did I mention that there was also a kindergarten class that was wandering around also, so some of the crafts I got to learn about on a kindergarten level which was actually fun because we got to do little hands on crafty things.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In between my kindergarten crafts, I spent a lot of time talking to the various artists. I especially enjoyed the candle maker. It looked like a lot of fun to make candles, she would dip strings into wax multiple times and then once everything had dried, she would dip them in different dyes. I decided that I need to be a candle maker.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DXx_10BnuFs/WROVwwzA8TI/AAAAAAAAE2M/PAM6_7F1fFcD4MjBSF7rF4u9XmiyGSJaQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0560rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DXx_10BnuFs/WROVwwzA8TI/AAAAAAAAE2M/PAM6_7F1fFcD4MjBSF7rF4u9XmiyGSJaQCLcB/s640/IMG_0560rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Candle Making</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OOz9OloiNmM/WROV-xYWRBI/AAAAAAAAE2Q/EgfMszcyRDYKSHt_ZzAH5SvCERacI99gACLcB/s1600/IMG_0561rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OOz9OloiNmM/WROV-xYWRBI/AAAAAAAAE2Q/EgfMszcyRDYKSHt_ZzAH5SvCERacI99gACLcB/s640/IMG_0561rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were also other buildings - this was the one room school house</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I also enjoyed the Apothecary Shop, where I learned all about soap making. The woman said that it had been 15 years since she had used commercial soap on her hair or body. She talked about how it was pretty much a chemistry project, putting together different chemicals, melting them in a big pot and adding essential oils. If it didn't have Lye in it, it wasn't soap. I'm thinking I should start making soap. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The other fascinating shop I visited was a copper shop. They would take a piece of copper and they would paint with a mini blow torch. Depending on how hot the torch was and how long you kept it on the copper, that would determine the color. Yup, if I had any artistic talent, after my soap and candle making, I would be a copper painter. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I also visited a knife maker, weaver, glass blower and a potter. I guess I will have to put all of this on my to-do list. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Of course, the highlight of my visit was lunch. I had been wanting one of these like forever and finally the stars aligned. I had a Frito Pie. Does life get any better than this?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hfz7Sh-TVwc/WROWRVsQcmI/AAAAAAAAE2U/pOJbY7PbGO00BHD4hf36vwdrmF-UpU60ACLcB/s1600/IMG_0566rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hfz7Sh-TVwc/WROWRVsQcmI/AAAAAAAAE2U/pOJbY7PbGO00BHD4hf36vwdrmF-UpU60ACLcB/s640/IMG_0566rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After being all crafty, I went home and picked up Miko. We were off for Blanchard Springs. The big draw in the area is Blanchard Caverns, but I really don't have much interest in going underground. It was too nice of a day and I had been promised a waterfall. This is a most excellent time to see waterfalls in Arkansas because of all of the heavy rain that we have had in the last few days, those waterfalls are gushing. Also because of the rain, the creeks have all overflowed their beds. The trail I was planning to take, went along the creek in a loop but I could only go down one size of the creek – there was no trail or way to cross the raging torrent. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6p3_BYROfi0/WROWhtmxzoI/AAAAAAAAE2Y/cm_rCEz_qywUAt8uw95ikSqakiJ3AJcyACLcB/s1600/IMG_0568rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6p3_BYROfi0/WROWhtmxzoI/AAAAAAAAE2Y/cm_rCEz_qywUAt8uw95ikSqakiJ3AJcyACLcB/s640/IMG_0568rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think that is a trail on the other side of the creek</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s87y8BjYiWE/WROXETLnYtI/AAAAAAAAE2s/kkcrHFm3ny4dcCl-VtK4S0XFKbqJWNPNACLcB/s1600/IMG_0574rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s87y8BjYiWE/WROXETLnYtI/AAAAAAAAE2s/kkcrHFm3ny4dcCl-VtK4S0XFKbqJWNPNACLcB/s640/IMG_0574rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally&nbsp; A Water Fall!!!!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JofWetSP1TI/WROXEOTWafI/AAAAAAAAE2o/8xs22dRsd4MDcxRjko7oXB-TsyqElGEzQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0577rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JofWetSP1TI/WROXEOTWafI/AAAAAAAAE2o/8xs22dRsd4MDcxRjko7oXB-TsyqElGEzQCLcB/s640/IMG_0577rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonus - another one!!!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KVK-ZgVbjw8/WROXEGDrZ6I/AAAAAAAAE2k/jjBvcWnOIoIHdXYCTlYvPE6HYha5SJ-lwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0583rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KVK-ZgVbjw8/WROXEGDrZ6I/AAAAAAAAE2k/jjBvcWnOIoIHdXYCTlYvPE6HYha5SJ-lwCLcB/s640/IMG_0583rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miko spent a lot of time chasing these guys</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">As I left town, I had to stop at the Conoco station in a little town of Leslie. When I entered Arkansas, way back when, the woman at the Welcome Center told me that this Conoco station makes the most fabulous chocolate rolls. They have this dough that they spread out flat and then smother it with chocolate, roll it up and then deep fry it. I walk in, stood in line, asked for them and the lady says – “how many? A dozen?” I took a deep breath and said sure. Gotta say, they are pretty incredible. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I ended up in a Corp of Engineer Park called Old Post Road Park. It had a nice dam and river but not a lot of charm. There was a soccer field there that had about 100 Canadian geese all lounging around. I thought about all those kids playing in all that goose poop and Miko told me that she could fix the problem. I looked around, there was nobody nearby and I let Miko go. She took off at warp speed and it was like one of those nature photo ops from National Geographic. One hundred geese all taking to the sky. I sure wish I had had my camera ready.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I also have learned about a terrible thing that Arkansas has. Something called Seed Ticks. Not so Fun Fact: The life cycle of a wood tick is composed of four states: egg, larval, nymphal and adult. The larval stage is also called Seed Ticks. They are super tiny, smaller than a deer tick and they attach themselves like a regular tick. A lot of times, you can feel them attach – they have super sharp biting heads. I speak from experience. They are so tiny that it is difficult to notice them, let alone get them off. It is Seed Tick season here in Arkansas. </div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-30110462728750002512017-05-06T19:30:00.001-05:002017-05-06T19:30:30.349-05:00Little Rock - It Actually Coulda Been Called Big Rock <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have arrived in Little Rock, the capital of Arkansas and I think it is also&nbsp;the biggest city in Arkansas. Little Rock was actually named because there was a little rock (which was actually a Big Rock) in the middle of the Arkansas River.&nbsp; Go figure.&nbsp; &nbsp;I've decided to go all urban and I'm staying at the Downtown Riverside RV park which is right across the Arkansas River from Little Rock in North Little Rock. I am almost right underneath the I30 Interstate bridge, but I'm right on the river and I have a pretty good view of downtown Little Rock. It is your traditional RV park with your neighbors right on top of you, but I guess I could say Location, Location, Location.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Plf_Lzazusk/WQ5lzpdzMFI/AAAAAAAAE1Y/l1Vm6EDrDaog7skeasOVbE3Vmi3qMFgWgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0516rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Plf_Lzazusk/WQ5lzpdzMFI/AAAAAAAAE1Y/l1Vm6EDrDaog7skeasOVbE3Vmi3qMFgWgCLcB/s640/IMG_0516rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View out my front window of downtown Little Rock - see how close I am to the river</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FCKtYS66NWs/WQ5lzpNPUgI/AAAAAAAAE1c/17YdzlfYplYUljvvUCJiQY7JYcJou7arACLcB/s1600/IMG_0518rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FCKtYS66NWs/WQ5lzpNPUgI/AAAAAAAAE1c/17YdzlfYplYUljvvUCJiQY7JYcJou7arACLcB/s640/IMG_0518rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can see my rig and Cooper right in front of the middle tree</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Besides the interstate bridge, there are two other pedestrian bridges close by that cross the river. One is the Presidential bridge which goes from the RV park directly to the Clinton library. The other is called the Junction Bridge – an old railroad bridge that runs trains no more. Miko and I get up early and hike across the Presidential bridge and come back over the Junction Bridge. The Clinton library is having a special exhibition now called Xtreme Bugs. Took a picture of these two, weird thing is that if you get close enough to them, they start to move.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5ZgrZ59w2_0/WQ5mV8D6loI/AAAAAAAAE1g/fXokP3tggIo6oRXZfBajsyTDbIFmyhrxACLcB/s1600/IMG_0523rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5ZgrZ59w2_0/WQ5mV8D6loI/AAAAAAAAE1g/fXokP3tggIo6oRXZfBajsyTDbIFmyhrxACLcB/s640/IMG_0523rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sort of a strange thing to have at a Presidential Library</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We then wandered through a sculpture garden – there are supposed to be about 70 sculptures here, I saw maybe 30. Don't know where the rest of them were.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IELtSQzJWVE/WQ5mmNO9T5I/AAAAAAAAE1o/PU0vKAD34FIlibhK5f0kaLjIe6VrXvXOQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0529rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IELtSQzJWVE/WQ5mmNO9T5I/AAAAAAAAE1o/PU0vKAD34FIlibhK5f0kaLjIe6VrXvXOQCLcB/s640/IMG_0529rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qZk6KdW33F0/WQ5myVDws1I/AAAAAAAAE1s/-zj6wXcIOmkCh6wFqtKgnwZSruk4fZpJQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0531rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qZk6KdW33F0/WQ5myVDws1I/AAAAAAAAE1s/-zj6wXcIOmkCh6wFqtKgnwZSruk4fZpJQCLcB/s640/IMG_0531rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lord Featherwick</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The beautiful sunny morning turned into three days of rain with a little bit of hail thrown in. Widespread flooding was predicted. I was a tad bit worried seeing as how I was so close to the river. I picked a certain spot on the bank of the river and decided that if the river rose above that point, I was outta there. Not to worry, the Arkansas River kept moving everything downstream.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am quite the wine snob. I am getting a little short on wine and went online to see if I could find an upscale wine shop. All reviews pointed to this one market so I ran over there. Let's just say that the only thing I picked up there was in their cheese department and that was that southern favorite “Pimento Cheese”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">On my list of NPS sites was the Little Rock Central High School. Over the years, I had seen some film segments about what happened, but did not know much about it. The visitor center was an excellent spot to learn more about what happened when the Little Rock Nine tried to desegregate the white school. The stories that I heard, I'm telling you - &nbsp;it was horrifying what these kids went through. Amazing how strong they were and how mature. They are an example to us all.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The school itself was built in the mid 1920s at a cost of over a million dollars. Think about how much money that was in the twenties. It is an impressive school – today it houses 2500 students and all freshmen who start their high school years here are required to read a book called “Warriors Don't Cry” written by Melba Pattillo Beals, one of the Little Rock Nine. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1gAVX9NdVG0/WQ5nQE-kqeI/AAAAAAAAE10/00QjzVV5af8mu4kQdb96U7MiU-G5RZN9gCLcB/s1600/IMG_0548rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1gAVX9NdVG0/WQ5nQE-kqeI/AAAAAAAAE10/00QjzVV5af8mu4kQdb96U7MiU-G5RZN9gCLcB/s640/IMG_0548rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Rock Central High School - On these steps the Little Rock Nine entered</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lv9ny9OlPIM/WQ5nL2r_a5I/AAAAAAAAE1w/9z_aeGp5Nj4deSBAKGH8LpiUZnx2UH1BACEw/s1600/IMG_0558rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lv9ny9OlPIM/WQ5nL2r_a5I/AAAAAAAAE1w/9z_aeGp5Nj4deSBAKGH8LpiUZnx2UH1BACEw/s400/IMG_0558rs.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div>I did go out to dinner with my diamond hunting partner Jan to a place called All Aboard.&nbsp; Basic diner food, but once you order, you sit down and your food gets delivered by a train that runs on a track that circles the restaurant.&nbsp; That was pretty cool, the first time you saw it.&nbsp; Below is a video that shows a delivery being made.&nbsp; I think to see it, you have to go to the MikoBoBiko website.&nbsp; <a href="http://www.mikobobiko.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">www.mikobobiko.blogspot.com</a><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowFullScreen='true' webkitallowfullscreen='true' mozallowfullscreen='true' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxAB00VCkj5rBnbqhLooQUJYyh4kaW-P5S5sGH8Eat8tPrxICXDVqBvVuOwF7g2B6d32iPKSEHJYtJdUNugpQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' FRAMEBORDER='0' /></div><br /><strike><br /></strike><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pkSDL3ACCgs/WQ5nxO6D1TI/AAAAAAAAE14/7pcAsbFkGucg2ysyHxgSQypmV3ZvjklqgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0547rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pkSDL3ACCgs/WQ5nxO6D1TI/AAAAAAAAE14/7pcAsbFkGucg2ysyHxgSQypmV3ZvjklqgCLcB/s640/IMG_0547rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My view at night of the Presidential Bridge - the white blob on the right side is the Clinton Library</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-18901249812758598942017-05-03T17:19:00.000-05:002017-05-03T17:19:03.653-05:00In the Beginning of Arkansas <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">First stop in Arkansas is a sleepy little town in the southeast called Hope. President Clinton has famously said on the campaign trail “I still believe in a place called Hope”. Why, do you ask? The Prez was born in Hope and spent his early years there. This is a very small NPS site, in fact only about 11,000 people visited it in 2014. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">What was sort of spooky about visiting this historical site was the fact that it was furnished just as when little Bill was there – in the late forties and early fifties. He had some of the same books and toys that we had when I was little. The house was very reminiscent of my grandparents' house. I guess I'm slowly moving into the historical category myself.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZXnkEmAe3aY/WQpU_xzD6xI/AAAAAAAAE0g/Wu_dfueNX9oEHqrSI2GZOVu-4_vPqCJIgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0481rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZXnkEmAe3aY/WQpU_xzD6xI/AAAAAAAAE0g/Wu_dfueNX9oEHqrSI2GZOVu-4_vPqCJIgCLcB/s640/IMG_0481rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2iP3KHo6QEc/WQpU_ZqMQeI/AAAAAAAAE0c/CvczPiHjHx8Ix0PgTszMGOuB7_3c__43wCLcB/s1600/IMG_0483rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2iP3KHo6QEc/WQpU_ZqMQeI/AAAAAAAAE0c/CvczPiHjHx8Ix0PgTszMGOuB7_3c__43wCLcB/s640/IMG_0483rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After spending a night at the fairgrounds in Hope, I moved onward to Crater of Diamonds State Park. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Crater of Diamonds is a 37 acre plowed field that is the eroded surface of the world's eighth largest diamond-bearing volcanic crater. You can go diamond hunting and if you find a diamond, it is yours to keep. I had visions of making it rich – what they don't tell you is that if you do find a large diamond, it will probably only be the size of a match head. Most of the diamonds found are smaller than that. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zcKoJcVIxrA/WQpV4CsLNPI/AAAAAAAAE00/Gm6LFEBhg1gIOaMIEYgWMze7rRN98fYMwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0487rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zcKoJcVIxrA/WQpV4CsLNPI/AAAAAAAAE00/Gm6LFEBhg1gIOaMIEYgWMze7rRN98fYMwCLcB/s640/IMG_0487rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were other things to do at the park - look at all this green on this trail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LFmeFNguv4Q/WQpV3xEOf2I/AAAAAAAAE0w/pBUOIexd3hoYXh0M-FASwSPjGss0i2vDACLcB/s1600/IMG_0499rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LFmeFNguv4Q/WQpV3xEOf2I/AAAAAAAAE0w/pBUOIexd3hoYXh0M-FASwSPjGss0i2vDACLcB/s640/IMG_0499rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had some rain and the Little Missouri flooded.&nbsp; This is almost the same area where the green trail picture was taken</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I was so lucky that I met this diamond-hunting maven named Jan. She had done this before and could show me the ropes. Jan was really an interesting woman – she was in the medical field and would contract out to different hospitals all over the country. Every three months she would move to a different part of the country where she wanted to work. What a great way to spend your working life.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So, this is how you go diamond hunting. First you put on icky old clothes because you are going to get dirty. Then you rent a “Basic Diamond Hunting Kit” for $12. It is a bucket, a shovel and a screen set. You trudge out into the mud, find a place where you feel lucky and fill your bucket with dirt and mud. You then trudge up to the Washing Sheds. You put your mud into the screen set and douse it in water, trying to wash all the loose mud out, leaving all the rocks and hopefully diamonds. Flip the rocks out onto a ledge and then go through all the rocks looking for little itty-bitty shiny rocks. And then repeat. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0B98z0tpgT4/WQpVSSH15DI/AAAAAAAAE0k/RJ0J9qBVaREX0TVsAoixKzY0OdditkKkACLcB/s1600/IMG_0505rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0B98z0tpgT4/WQpVSSH15DI/AAAAAAAAE0k/RJ0J9qBVaREX0TVsAoixKzY0OdditkKkACLcB/s640/IMG_0505rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Diamond Field</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PhBSf-kqr8E/WQpVULRb58I/AAAAAAAAE0o/F47c9SvtRigS_YOMEdZT9wWgTzXSTrAdwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PhBSf-kqr8E/WQpVULRb58I/AAAAAAAAE0o/F47c9SvtRigS_YOMEdZT9wWgTzXSTrAdwCLcB/s640/IMG_0509.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jan showing us how to play in the water</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After the first bucket load, I was pretty much done with the whole process. I did enjoy the playing in the water, so I would just rinse the rocks, dump them and then let Jan do all the intense look-see part. I figured if she found the rocks, she could keep them. I don't think diamond hunting is my cup of tea. There was one guy there who had been there for over a month and had found five diamonds. Another couple had been coming to the park for the past five years, a week at a time. Me – been there, done that. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zcuOFE297Xg/WQpWfK_X8mI/AAAAAAAAE08/JUm_BpNtsmsAzvr1hr8Xn7HEDlCn-q6TgCLcB/s1600/JanandMers.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zcuOFE297Xg/WQpWfK_X8mI/AAAAAAAAE08/JUm_BpNtsmsAzvr1hr8Xn7HEDlCn-q6TgCLcB/s640/JanandMers.png" width="480" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-66153584289606813842017-04-30T12:02:00.002-05:002017-04-30T12:07:50.184-05:00WhereTo Go?<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Where to Go? Where to Go? North, East, West or South?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">South - I'm sort of tired of scrubby landscape and it is getting warm.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">West – I'm sort of running out of time and how can you leave Utah without seeing everything?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">North – Lows in the twenties and snow – no thank you</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I guess that leaves East. ARKANSAS!!!! But, but.... I have to cross Texas. Texas, the land of good highways and cheap gas. Texas, the land of consistent flat and cow-filled scenery. It took me two whole days to cross Texas at my current rate of travel.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The first night, I stayed in Amarillo. Right outside of Amarillo&nbsp;in a nowhere type of place&nbsp;is Cadillac Ranch where somebody has put nine Cadillacs nose down in the dirt. People are welcome to bring their spray paint with them and let loose their inner graffiti artist. I'm thinking artist might be sort of a strong word here. Maybe I should use the word preservationist instead of artist because I'm sure that all the different layers of paint are all that are holding these cars together. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0sXmXw9amNE/WQYXngtu15I/AAAAAAAAEzU/rj-SAGwxtKcwuAGfIxytaX7ExlnSoqnwQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0472rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0sXmXw9amNE/WQYXngtu15I/AAAAAAAAEzU/rj-SAGwxtKcwuAGfIxytaX7ExlnSoqnwQCLcB/s640/IMG_0472rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fCSZ840NEuw/WQYX4JYJ_JI/AAAAAAAAEzY/j71kmkAwcZ8vBMB9p2Bh15z9USV2HaGKgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0453rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fCSZ840NEuw/WQYX4JYJ_JI/AAAAAAAAEzY/j71kmkAwcZ8vBMB9p2Bh15z9USV2HaGKgCLcB/s640/IMG_0453rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MQDCUvE6i-c/WQYYExyubUI/AAAAAAAAEzc/VQSbCH3gA4Yt-jjbXr8yWl2Iq9wiKS0wQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0467rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MQDCUvE6i-c/WQYYExyubUI/AAAAAAAAEzc/VQSbCH3gA4Yt-jjbXr8yWl2Iq9wiKS0wQCLcB/s640/IMG_0467rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miko admiring her handiwork</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MVka3fC0AN0/WQYYRt3fQyI/AAAAAAAAEzg/1esoxQmK-NEXD1dJXSdhuxoL7WSYQPYzACLcB/s1600/IMG_0462rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MVka3fC0AN0/WQYYRt3fQyI/AAAAAAAAEzg/1esoxQmK-NEXD1dJXSdhuxoL7WSYQPYzACLcB/s640/IMG_0462rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miko looking all noble</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Down the road apiece, there was the 2<sup>nd</sup>Amendment Cowboy. Not too sure what that is about, but they had three Cadillacs nose down that were in pristine shape.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0uUvRHT4UoU/WQYYerWsjKI/AAAAAAAAEzk/AeCbXl8bYtEZ5gvvKpWZnz9KHmcBaC09wCLcB/s1600/IMG_0475rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0uUvRHT4UoU/WQYYerWsjKI/AAAAAAAAEzk/AeCbXl8bYtEZ5gvvKpWZnz9KHmcBaC09wCLcB/s640/IMG_0475rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">As I was driving from my campsite at the local Amarillo Walmart to the Ranch, I passed through a suburban neighborhood. One house had a rather large back yard and I look over and see llamas. Llamas in suburbia. Wait – there are also zebras. Then I see......a giant live one humped camel. In their backyard!!!! Who does this in Suburbia? Oh, right – I'm in Texas. I stopped again on my way back from the Ranch to take a picture of the camel and I didn't see it. Figment of my imagination? I wonder. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-18022968513444460012017-04-29T18:33:00.000-05:002017-04-29T18:33:49.539-05:00New Friends Become Good Friends <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have had an email correspondence with a woman named Renee who lives in Albuquerque. She has a Class C motorhome and just happens to be the sister of a dear friend of mine back up north. Since I was in the neighborhood, Renee and I decided to meet up. After a few discussions, we settled on Navajo Lake State Park way up at the top of New Mexico. Miko and I had a blast and I'm not just saying that because Renee will probably read this. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The road to Navajo Lake that I took was like a roller coaster ride. You would go up a super steep hill, so steep that the RV would start losing power and I would have to downshift. Then when you got to the top of the hill, the road just disappeared. It went straight down and not just a little down but a long, long, long ways down. My stomach dropped out several times. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I arrived first and found a perfect site who a couple of rigs camping together. The sites were very close together which is probably why nobody else had taken them. For us, it was perfect. We overlooked the Marina in one direction, we had a nature view out the other direction and we had a trail that led down the hill to the lake so the dogs could play in the water. Did I say dogs? Renee shows up with the rest of her family – Peaches, Haven and Whiskey (who I kept calling Molly for some reason). Three of nicest dogs, two of which were big big dogs. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-apkhEpKTn24/WQUdBp5lvnI/AAAAAAAAEyQ/elF0NV6VZ8MIwouZZRmamjWksFGH0gRSwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0419rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-apkhEpKTn24/WQUdBp5lvnI/AAAAAAAAEyQ/elF0NV6VZ8MIwouZZRmamjWksFGH0gRSwCLcB/s640/IMG_0419rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Marina</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r8PPTzraw7A/WQUdAFAkmTI/AAAAAAAAEyM/pmdoei1MyPco0eSDFE8cXKPMR5xUM9HmQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0441rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r8PPTzraw7A/WQUdAFAkmTI/AAAAAAAAEyM/pmdoei1MyPco0eSDFE8cXKPMR5xUM9HmQCLcB/s640/IMG_0441rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Nature View</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WDiTThVArxw/WQUehHoDekI/AAAAAAAAEyc/MFuiVZ_mM1cTtifw4uA2n3K-LKwn__PwwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0429rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WDiTThVArxw/WQUehHoDekI/AAAAAAAAEyc/MFuiVZ_mM1cTtifw4uA2n3K-LKwn__PwwCLcB/s640/IMG_0429rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L-R: Haven, Whiskey, Renee and Peaches</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miko is used to being the center of attention when we walk around the campgrounds, but when we would walk all four dogs, it was Peaches that everybody fawned over. Peaches is part Great Dane and part Rottweiler and rather stunning. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We walked and walked and in between we talked and talked. Renee is tremendously funny and given all that she has been thru, one of the strongest women I've met. Amazing person.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Beyond walking endlessly around the campground, there was one trail that we wanted to hike that went back into the mountains. There were supposed to be ruins back there and also, supposedly some gold that some bad guys hid back in them thar hills. We loaded all four dogs into the Mini Cooper and truth be told, we probably could have fit in a few more puppies. We didn't find the gold nor the ruins, but it was fun crawling through the rocks on the top of the mountains.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cxLNnqb2N0c/WQUfgPIr7hI/AAAAAAAAEyo/713g7p5Rjm8S5wA6GhbuC8cJYLGkUZGbwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0433rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cxLNnqb2N0c/WQUfgPIr7hI/AAAAAAAAEyo/713g7p5Rjm8S5wA6GhbuC8cJYLGkUZGbwCLcB/s640/IMG_0433rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They moved too quick so I couldn't get them all in the photo</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After spending a few days at Navajo Lake, we were getting a little bored. Even my next door neighbor, Leroy, with his amazing biscuits and gravy could not make us stay. It was back down south to a Corp of Engineer park called Cochita Lake which was a little bit west of Santa Fe. I was only a couple of miles away from Bandelier National Monument where I spent some time earlier in the month. It was a nice park, overlooking the lake. The best part was that I finally got to do laundry. There is something so special and exciting when you get to come home with all your clothes clean. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After a couple of days, Renee decided that she probably should move on. She had a few appointments that she couldn't miss. When she left, Miko kept looking for her doggie buddies. Sad. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vN6Y8JMdg08/WQUhMMyhLzI/AAAAAAAAEzE/1DHiodjZdmAjbvfbEItFwrruDss44Hi7gCLcB/s1600/IMG_0444rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vN6Y8JMdg08/WQUhMMyhLzI/AAAAAAAAEzE/1DHiodjZdmAjbvfbEItFwrruDss44Hi7gCLcB/s640/IMG_0444rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cochita Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SBlsm1BmTtM/WQUhMLP589I/AAAAAAAAEzA/G2TCyYFCMEIsEqRVIMj2qdUkZW9tc8OgwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0450rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SBlsm1BmTtM/WQUhMLP589I/AAAAAAAAEzA/G2TCyYFCMEIsEqRVIMj2qdUkZW9tc8OgwCLcB/s640/IMG_0450rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was a New Mexico storm moving in - wimpy, wimpy - followed by five minutes of OMG rain.&nbsp; You can barely see the mountains in the background</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-88386096294214666132017-04-28T16:50:00.002-05:002017-04-28T16:59:42.254-05:00Aztec - What's In A Name?<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I say goodbye to Abiquiu – I am totally in love with this place. I think in all of my travels so far, this is the longest I've ever stayed anyplace. I really hope to be back someday.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am heading north, about as close to the Colorado border as you can get. I am on my way to another Junior Ranger badge at the Aztec Ruins. I stayed at the Ruins Road RV Park – the park itself is basically a big field with all the RVs lined up side by side. I lucked out and got a spot (11B) that was on the end so that I had nobody on one side of me. I also lucked out because this park had full hookups and was only $20 a night. The park was right on the Animas River and we could walk down along the river. The river was almost to the edge of the banks and running extremely fast. I watched a goose family take their little ones to the water edge and I was afraid the little ones would be swept away. Those plucky little guys jumped in and stayed right by the rest of the family. They must have been paddling like mad to stay in place. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Following the path along the river I came to an old rickety bridge that I had to go under.&nbsp; I was surprised to see that somebody had been painting there. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xdNKOiYZ3uQ/WQO3wCNiwhI/AAAAAAAAEx4/vPr3vaREI9Ymt_x41SFSmG5nd7AuI2FvACEw/s1600/IMG_0417rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xdNKOiYZ3uQ/WQO3wCNiwhI/AAAAAAAAEx4/vPr3vaREI9Ymt_x41SFSmG5nd7AuI2FvACEw/s640/IMG_0417rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n-5YjVXoXgE/WQO3wZg5geI/AAAAAAAAEx8/drYfotYIzVc6lkzdubhTj8ku5iaO0s1-ACEw/s1600/IMG_0418rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n-5YjVXoXgE/WQO3wZg5geI/AAAAAAAAEx8/drYfotYIzVc6lkzdubhTj8ku5iaO0s1-ACEw/s640/IMG_0418rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Aztec Ruins – I was thinking this would be just another ancient ruin but it turns out that there has been some restoration done on the buildings. There was a little bit of controversy about whether or not these ruins should have been restored but as a latter-day tourist, it was much easier to imagine how these Ancients lived day to day. It brought it more to life, if you will. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Fun Fact:&nbsp; Although they are called Aztec Ruins, the people who lived and worked here were not Aztec. The Spaniards called all native peoples Aztec and in this case, the name stuck.<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This is one of the restored areas.&nbsp; It is the underground Kiva where the Ancients held their ceremonies.&nbsp; I don't think they had LED lighting on the stairs back in the day.&nbsp; Actually, maybe they didn't even have stairs now that I think about it.&nbsp; Notice the ladders all around the room.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c8sVD8L_yx8/WQO2nDZN7_I/AAAAAAAAExg/pdgb9a3M9WkhXKXHJ5KMRBJRtGqsJHiGwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0406rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c8sVD8L_yx8/WQO2nDZN7_I/AAAAAAAAExg/pdgb9a3M9WkhXKXHJ5KMRBJRtGqsJHiGwCLcB/s640/IMG_0406rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ovHOfgQ5G4Y/WQO2nHBpEnI/AAAAAAAAExk/Dj-LZss_BHY5cnKmI-54Z49VPsH8S_XqACLcB/s1600/IMG_0407rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ovHOfgQ5G4Y/WQO2nHBpEnI/AAAAAAAAExk/Dj-LZss_BHY5cnKmI-54Z49VPsH8S_XqACLcB/s640/IMG_0407rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And now we have my attempt at being artistic.&nbsp; In the ruins, one room led to another</td></tr></tbody></table><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike><br /></strike><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wmt3QiK52VM/WQO3N0CY3II/AAAAAAAAExs/1Ia8dPA9DOgIc8wOpyEkCKBJndKYpUj9wCLcB/s1600/IMG_0414rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wmt3QiK52VM/WQO3N0CY3II/AAAAAAAAExs/1Ia8dPA9DOgIc8wOpyEkCKBJndKYpUj9wCLcB/s640/IMG_0414rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Ruins</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eBAHFkMD8ZI/WQO3N4a3gxI/AAAAAAAAExw/i2a3KGGGEws3coyiZhQqr69tt1gFHh4lgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0415rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eBAHFkMD8ZI/WQO3N4a3gxI/AAAAAAAAExw/i2a3KGGGEws3coyiZhQqr69tt1gFHh4lgCLcB/s640/IMG_0415rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For my Junior Ranger Badge I had to draw a picture of different restoration methods.&nbsp; I chose to take a picture of a ranger restoring a wall.&nbsp; It worked and I got my badge</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-7142899939791957062017-04-25T21:55:00.000-05:002017-04-25T21:55:08.741-05:00Plaza Blanca <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">One of the places that Georgia O'Keefe painted was a place that is a little northeast of Abiquiu. She called it 'The White Place' but it's official name is Plaza Blanca. It is actually perhaps a little more gray than white but who am I to argue.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The area is owned by Dar al Islam: ' a non-profit organization dedicated to cultivating greater understanding of Islam among Americans of all faiths in order to establish our commonalities and build stronger relationships.' Even though this is private property, they allow people to come and experience this very special space. Even better, they let dogs come and experience this also. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miko and I were the only ones out there hiking. Perhaps it was because we drove out to Plaza Blanca mid afternoon. Mid-afternoon – hottest part of the day. Add on to this, the fact that these rock formations are white which adds a lot of radiant heat. Miko and I soldiered on though and made it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There were lots of little tiny slot canyons and we followed a few of them. There was one slot where it got quite narrow and there was a big step up – too big for Miko to get up. I wanted to see where the slot went so I lifted Miko up and had to scramble myself to get up there. Turns out this slot went nowhere, we immediately rounded a corner and it was a dead end. I, of course, had not taken into account that we had to somehow get out of this slot – we had to get down this now giant step. Miko, being the brains of the operation, knew that she couldn't make it. I tried coaxing her and then I guess I maybe accidentally pushed her a bit. She ended up sort of splayed out in mid air with her legs braced against each side of the slot, hanging in mid air. I grabbed her harness and pulled her back up. Sorry Miko. I then got myself splayed out halfway down, reached out, grabbed her harness and then lifted her down. I ended up sliding down a bit on my butt and we walked out of that slot with our head held high as though nothing happened. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Notice that there are no Red Rock pictures. It is all about White Rocks.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g73zSHflEs4/WQAKSTDL60I/AAAAAAAAEw4/OPj8GjAtPX0MdZqFQbfg69b-BZB-iuDTwCEw/s1600/IMG_0384rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g73zSHflEs4/WQAKSTDL60I/AAAAAAAAEw4/OPj8GjAtPX0MdZqFQbfg69b-BZB-iuDTwCEw/s640/IMG_0384rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0lBQk94IrxQ/WQAKSUHfrFI/AAAAAAAAEw8/EIf1fv4wr9gO5Y7ckvu27ja8T-6AaghygCEw/s1600/IMG_0386rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0lBQk94IrxQ/WQAKSUHfrFI/AAAAAAAAEw8/EIf1fv4wr9gO5Y7ckvu27ja8T-6AaghygCEw/s640/IMG_0386rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miko Ears</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sE9TsG3a9L8/WQAKuXz2JLI/AAAAAAAAExA/wn8QYqisQpIn_Busi7oKNvgmi-W_fdcfgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0389rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sE9TsG3a9L8/WQAKuXz2JLI/AAAAAAAAExA/wn8QYqisQpIn_Busi7oKNvgmi-W_fdcfgCLcB/s640/IMG_0389rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m7o1LrzlPOA/WQAKua_MhKI/AAAAAAAAExE/UJmS04w0CU0psI4PE2DTIQnigokSuJeAACLcB/s1600/IMG_0391rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m7o1LrzlPOA/WQAKua_MhKI/AAAAAAAAExE/UJmS04w0CU0psI4PE2DTIQnigokSuJeAACLcB/s640/IMG_0391rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike><br /></strike><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RtlyiTcIV04/WQAK-jRinZI/AAAAAAAAExI/CWAud0hik4Qq7idd4vIgKwS5PdA6lme3ACLcB/s1600/IMG_0399rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RtlyiTcIV04/WQAK-jRinZI/AAAAAAAAExI/CWAud0hik4Qq7idd4vIgKwS5PdA6lme3ACLcB/s640/IMG_0399rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Proceeding down this slot was way above our abilities</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YxV8MwxZJ2E/WQAK-s4EseI/AAAAAAAAExM/5hkT_eUvfe8JiAu4mkRdOp0fyCdzzSkvACLcB/s1600/IMG_0402rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YxV8MwxZJ2E/WQAK-s4EseI/AAAAAAAAExM/5hkT_eUvfe8JiAu4mkRdOp0fyCdzzSkvACLcB/s640/IMG_0402rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-11376696375078507102017-04-21T00:24:00.000-05:002017-04-21T00:24:59.770-05:00Ghost Ranch <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Today is Ghost Ranch day. Georgia O'Keefe bought a small plot of land in the middle of a dude ranch called Ghost Ranch. I think Ghost Ranch itself is about 35 square miles and Ms. O'Keefe spent many years painting the surrounding landscape. The dude ranch was sold to the Presbyterian Church in the mid-fifties and the church currently still owns it. There are several tours offered at Ghost Ranch – I have elected to take a Landscape Tour. This is a tour where you get on a bus and they take you to various sites, show you the picture that O'Keefe painted and then show you what she was actually painting. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I get to the ranch, walk up the steps to the welcome center and tell a lady with a name tag and a big hat that I am here for the tour. She rushes up, grabs me and gives me a huge hug. “I'm so glad you are here – you are our only client for the tour today” she says. Part of me thinks “Super”, while the other part thinks “oh geez, now I will have to really pay attention to everything that gets said”. Luckily, in the next fifteen minutes, two other women spontaneously join the tour. Now this is the perfect size tour group.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After a fifteen minute movie, we get on the mini-bus with big windows and go through a gate which keeps the plain tourists out. We are getting a behind-the-scene tour. Yay!!! It really was fun – it was more of a conversational type of tour. Kate, the tour guide would tell little anecdotes about Georgia and her life on the ranch.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Such as:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Georgia bought a Model A for $650 but she didn't know how to drive. One of her friends tried to teach her but quit after Georgia ran into a barn. Another tutor was teaching her and when he was asked if she was a good driver he said – Not really, but she is fearless.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ghost Ranch has many hiking trails that I could take Miko on. I meant to come back on a following day and spend time doing that but it was not meant to be. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And now for more Red Rocks - I'm lovin' me those red rocks</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gfRSkbN_HUU/WPmTayBVHDI/AAAAAAAAEwQ/w0DNW6CYadEFkZFp5xXNIDGjT85ex5DzgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0347rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gfRSkbN_HUU/WPmTayBVHDI/AAAAAAAAEwQ/w0DNW6CYadEFkZFp5xXNIDGjT85ex5DzgCLcB/s640/IMG_0347rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gEzOpXiBrCg/WPmTaPRh4XI/AAAAAAAAEwM/Q1ApIz0BAg00ewryeXOixhNbStCMKFiRwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0357rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gEzOpXiBrCg/WPmTaPRh4XI/AAAAAAAAEwM/Q1ApIz0BAg00ewryeXOixhNbStCMKFiRwCLcB/s640/IMG_0357rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4UoM86pk9C8/WPmTunge5KI/AAAAAAAAEwc/s9xq9H9LmP4oH-0CV7z2swMRHdTcLMoQwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0358rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4UoM86pk9C8/WPmTunge5KI/AAAAAAAAEwc/s9xq9H9LmP4oH-0CV7z2swMRHdTcLMoQwCLcB/s640/IMG_0358rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MZHG_Et5HuY/WPmTuX2ESwI/AAAAAAAAEwY/lLHwQFoHMSsObYak1LNvS99OhejQYdEJQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0361rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MZHG_Et5HuY/WPmTuX2ESwI/AAAAAAAAEwY/lLHwQFoHMSsObYak1LNvS99OhejQYdEJQCLcB/s640/IMG_0361rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ljESqvLnZjI/WPmTt3F7WnI/AAAAAAAAEwU/IhGAFilhSzEkf54p4BJZUb4gIkapxKghgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0363rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ljESqvLnZjI/WPmTt3F7WnI/AAAAAAAAEwU/IhGAFilhSzEkf54p4BJZUb4gIkapxKghgCLcB/s640/IMG_0363rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike><br /></strike><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JEk3nf8YnTs/WPmUJVaA5bI/AAAAAAAAEwo/IYudaLErILIv87c8l5bhDYn-0gf6n93dgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0366rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JEk3nf8YnTs/WPmUJVaA5bI/AAAAAAAAEwo/IYudaLErILIv87c8l5bhDYn-0gf6n93dgCLcB/s640/IMG_0366rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_mzs8lfJ9L0/WPmUJJq9AoI/AAAAAAAAEwk/MMKERJSkOS42TD59_wOk9-Svh72QO0cagCLcB/s1600/IMG_0369rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_mzs8lfJ9L0/WPmUJJq9AoI/AAAAAAAAEwk/MMKERJSkOS42TD59_wOk9-Svh72QO0cagCLcB/s640/IMG_0369rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miko finding something interesting in the lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kvL21X4cIv8/WPmUIwsVL4I/AAAAAAAAEwg/Hju9vGsYjRsx4yql2Ix_W9Fz3aBV2vmIACLcB/s1600/IMG_0371rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kvL21X4cIv8/WPmUIwsVL4I/AAAAAAAAEwg/Hju9vGsYjRsx4yql2Ix_W9Fz3aBV2vmIACLcB/s640/IMG_0371rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miko's friend, Jemez, trying to convince Miko to come in swimming</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-72422233770198079682017-04-20T16:39:00.001-05:002017-04-20T16:46:01.041-05:00The Long and Winding Road<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Fro me, the whole reason to go to Abiquiu was because it was Georgia O'Keefe country and I am a giant fan of her work. I wanted to see where she painted, what drew her to this area of New Mexico. I'm not sure the exact reasons that she came, but I'm here to tell you that this is some of the most beautiful country in the U.S. Of A. Wow and double wow.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I pull into Riana Campground which is run by the Corp of Engineers. Because of my advanced age, I get to camp here for half price. Eight dollars a night for a scenic campsite and I get water and electricity also. I had planned to hit the ground running but I found that sitting outside in the perfect weather, staring at Georgia's pet mountain: Cerro Pedernal which means Flint Mountain was throughly engrossing. I would occasionally turn my lawn chair 180 degrees and look over Abiquiu Lake (actually a reservoir). </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rENbBAP7H5c/WPkl693M2UI/AAAAAAAAEu8/M5Gkk8KEl58BFhPQ1a64H3tH4wx13lKKQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0286rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rENbBAP7H5c/WPkl693M2UI/AAAAAAAAEu8/M5Gkk8KEl58BFhPQ1a64H3tH4wx13lKKQCLcB/s640/IMG_0286rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View out the front of the RV</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4DZ4g2bF0kU/WPkl7F7Gw1I/AAAAAAAAEvA/X8N_LjMVw0QSY8ze_nE-vGBXKD5OadAPgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0287rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4DZ4g2bF0kU/WPkl7F7Gw1I/AAAAAAAAEvA/X8N_LjMVw0QSY8ze_nE-vGBXKD5OadAPgCLcB/s640/IMG_0287rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>View out the back - this is Cerro Pedernal - Georgia's Mountain</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8pk3kzA8X-8/WPkmcOE7A7I/AAAAAAAAEvI/gDfMy1sZGPYH6iku1pkSb_Z33QQ0I2btgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0288rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8pk3kzA8X-8/WPkmcOE7A7I/AAAAAAAAEvI/gDfMy1sZGPYH6iku1pkSb_Z33QQ0I2btgCLcB/s640/IMG_0288rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Site</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I probably sat there for a day and a half before I decided I should do more in the area besides walk Miko when she became insistent. I thought that since it was Easter Sunday perhaps I should go visit the local Benedictine Monastery of Christ In The Desert. The chapel was supposed to be special and every couple of hours, the monks file in and half sit on one side of the chapel, half sit on the other side of the chapel and they chant back and forth. This could be interesting, I looked at their prayer schedule and found a time when the chanting was only going to be ten minutes long. Keep in mind I am not a religious person at all. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Now the monastery is back in the mountains about thirteen miles off of the main road. I left home about a half hour early figuring that was plenty of time to go thirteen miles. Probably take me about 15 minutes? What I didn't take into account was that this thirteen mile road was a single lane, dirt washboard road that at times hung precariously to the side of mountains. Let us not even mention what happens when you meet a car. Forty five minutes later I arrive at the monastery, it is hard to see my car, it is covered with about fifty tons of red dirt. I missed None(the ten minute long prayer session) but I was going to be in time for Vespers. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The parking lot is a ways down the road from the monastery and as I'm walking up the road, I met a young woman in her twenties coming from the monastery. She stops me and says how much visiting this monastery has meant to her, how it has reaffirmed her faith. It was such a very intense spiritual experience for her. She said “I wept”. She then gave me a huge sprig of sage and hoped that my visit would move me as much as it had her. I thanked her and walked on.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0P2bOQKgdyg/WPknNBL3B2I/AAAAAAAAEvQ/2K3dxbFCkTI_We1VqmyTYNXU7qygOhOOwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0325rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0P2bOQKgdyg/WPknNBL3B2I/AAAAAAAAEvQ/2K3dxbFCkTI_We1VqmyTYNXU7qygOhOOwCLcB/s640/IMG_0325rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Monastery of Christ In The Desert</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IsfG0TCcyL4/WPkoLGm5yGI/AAAAAAAAEvc/F_BafrZcFDUZ_EstHD9n93ZU4Bw2B6migCLcB/s1600/IMG_0329rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="410" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IsfG0TCcyL4/WPkoLGm5yGI/AAAAAAAAEvc/F_BafrZcFDUZ_EstHD9n93ZU4Bw2B6migCLcB/s640/IMG_0329rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountains Behind the Monastery</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I had a few minutes before Vespers so I went into the gift shop. There were monk made candles and monk made carvings. Lots of monk made goods. I wandered along until I came to a rosary display (nun made, not monk made). I was raised Catholic and I remember my Great Gram teaching me to say the rosary. I suddenly realized that I no longer remembered anything about it. I walked up to Brother John, a very young monk and asked him if he could help me remember how to say the rosary. He became very excited, in a very quiet monk-like way and said “You want me to say the rosary with you?” Not quite what I had in mind, but ok. He started to show me and I don't know what happened but all of a sudden I had tears streaming down my face. I felt very overcome with emotion. I don't know if it was remembering Gram or the spirituality of the place but I could not stop weeping. </div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />So Brother John and I are praying together, rather Brother John is praying and I'm crying and saying words. He&nbsp;says "Hail Mary..............Full of Grace............" etc. Meanwhile I'm going "HailMaryFullOfGrace" etc. I think perhaps my spiritual lesson here is that I should probably slow down and reflect a bit more. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It is now time for Vespers. Brother John has to leave me quickly to get in line with the rest of the monks. I go into the chapel and it is beautifully simple. There are windows above the alter in three different directions where you can see the mountains pressed up close to the monastery. There are four rows of pews for the faithful or spectators and on each side of the aisle, there are only two or three seats. I think the audience could be about 12 people and I was one of them. I was definitely the only heathen there. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F0IvgMUoWlQ/WPkoi-n9HnI/AAAAAAAAEvg/Jkff7QIHlGwPH42F-vg7LFT9zvXhrvTxgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0330rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F0IvgMUoWlQ/WPkoi-n9HnI/AAAAAAAAEvg/Jkff7QIHlGwPH42F-vg7LFT9zvXhrvTxgCLcB/s640/IMG_0330rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Chapel</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The monks file in down the center aisle, followed by the incense swinger and a priest (officiant) and alter boy (monk). Turns out Vespers is not any ten minute deal. Over an hour later, the service is done. It was interesting watching the monks and even more moving to sit there and look at the mountains outside the window.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I thanked Brother John for his spiritual guidance before I left with my rosary in hand. It was now 6:30 and I was a little concerned that I might have to drive down that dirt road in the dark so I hightailed it out. I need not have worried, I got home before dark. Must have been cause I had that rosary watching out for me. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Pictures on "The Long and Winding Road":</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-isiPphMXfXo/WPko9xXiwMI/AAAAAAAAEvk/zpij2zW6uPEIAwlKDesiynukuKpYLFEtgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0319rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-isiPphMXfXo/WPko9xXiwMI/AAAAAAAAEvk/zpij2zW6uPEIAwlKDesiynukuKpYLFEtgCLcB/s640/IMG_0319rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CzBeeVkkInk/WPko-FRQZ_I/AAAAAAAAEvo/1PQTFsGjBSQ-MwPCb4JPx3f_rUGRAFHOQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0320rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CzBeeVkkInk/WPko-FRQZ_I/AAAAAAAAEvo/1PQTFsGjBSQ-MwPCb4JPx3f_rUGRAFHOQCLcB/s640/IMG_0320rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sNW99X4GVAE/WPkpQgkPT2I/AAAAAAAAEvs/AM5Gh5_P52MPjefZaopju8ZfOxvJKUjngCLcB/s1600/IMG_0321rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sNW99X4GVAE/WPkpQgkPT2I/AAAAAAAAEvs/AM5Gh5_P52MPjefZaopju8ZfOxvJKUjngCLcB/s640/IMG_0321rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-70ssox1oxdI/WPkpRI-IeJI/AAAAAAAAEvw/zPEPEXy9iYkFovHleu6KPcw_es9a4dgjQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0324rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-70ssox1oxdI/WPkpRI-IeJI/AAAAAAAAEvw/zPEPEXy9iYkFovHleu6KPcw_es9a4dgjQCLcB/s640/IMG_0324rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--vmuXumQVak/WPkpjrPwxeI/AAAAAAAAEv8/dQLUbqsWKsoMtMtz0TPPYxdbIeZyHt4cQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0331rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--vmuXumQVak/WPkpjrPwxeI/AAAAAAAAEv8/dQLUbqsWKsoMtMtz0TPPYxdbIeZyHt4cQCLcB/s640/IMG_0331rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uRfRWqDsx54/WPkpiKMLzuI/AAAAAAAAEv0/ySAT8Da48bUg2uD10ldLuU-5iGWp5WyAACLcB/s1600/IMG_0335rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uRfRWqDsx54/WPkpiKMLzuI/AAAAAAAAEv0/ySAT8Da48bUg2uD10ldLuU-5iGWp5WyAACLcB/s640/IMG_0335rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EguOwmxXU2Q/WPkpitthTXI/AAAAAAAAEv4/uW04OY4jo-wT170eDH_15aYhjO90vTBOwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0337rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EguOwmxXU2Q/WPkpitthTXI/AAAAAAAAEv4/uW04OY4jo-wT170eDH_15aYhjO90vTBOwCLcB/s640/IMG_0337rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-15708888987879770412017-04-17T12:28:00.000-05:002017-04-17T12:28:20.990-05:00Heron Lake State Park <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I actually spent three nights here at Heron Lake. There is nothing to do, nothing really to see. But it was quiet. When I got there on a Wednesday, there were only a couple of other campers there. One 80 year old guy who had a big old yellow dog named Girlfriend. Just him and his Girlfriend.&nbsp; &nbsp;He volunteered on an antique railroad that ran during the summer months. The other was a seventy year old woman Named Cory. She lived in her small little Toyota station wagon with two rescue Jack Russell dogs that people had abandoned in campgrounds in Arkansas and Mississippi. She had been doing this for years and loved the life. She had no tent or anything, it was just the car. Lovely lady.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miko and I&nbsp;just pretty much vegged out – did some baby hikes, did some chores. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tlCHp36D9-I/WPT2YH3ArCI/AAAAAAAAEuI/oE68I5y8IRQi657E55PnOur7Jj265utxQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0266rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tlCHp36D9-I/WPT2YH3ArCI/AAAAAAAAEuI/oE68I5y8IRQi657E55PnOur7Jj265utxQCLcB/s640/IMG_0266rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heron Lake</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eLTYkNCe64E/WPT2Zdpw9SI/AAAAAAAAEuM/XqOYzbTbzRAeDUQsON2gkmWbX4hVjBYAQCLcB/s1600/IMG_0271rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eLTYkNCe64E/WPT2Zdpw9SI/AAAAAAAAEuM/XqOYzbTbzRAeDUQsON2gkmWbX4hVjBYAQCLcB/s640/IMG_0271rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lake is really low - all the brown area is lake bottom</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_VETbdFtcxc/WPT4I_rphvI/AAAAAAAAEuc/5can2vI0Km0v1t_daUqDqk9PyaiLnw6xACLcB/s1600/IMG_0281rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_VETbdFtcxc/WPT4I_rphvI/AAAAAAAAEuc/5can2vI0Km0v1t_daUqDqk9PyaiLnw6xACLcB/s640/IMG_0281rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quarter mile Nature Trail - somebody worked very hard laying stones the whole length of the trail</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gwWSJyVdN5I/WPT36y2ZALI/AAAAAAAAEuY/yPWCacsMas0GTHeuSSMzantYgWQbTiW0wCLcB/s1600/IMG_0280rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gwWSJyVdN5I/WPT36y2ZALI/AAAAAAAAEuY/yPWCacsMas0GTHeuSSMzantYgWQbTiW0wCLcB/s640/IMG_0280rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For some reason, Miko refused to look at the camera - this is the best we could do</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike><br /></strike><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6YX04PBZNo/WPT6QWtEu2I/AAAAAAAAEus/khXZX58Pdv0yW2H1ooNYMwrR6xpluBOtwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0267rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6YX04PBZNo/WPT6QWtEu2I/AAAAAAAAEus/khXZX58Pdv0yW2H1ooNYMwrR6xpluBOtwCLcB/s640/IMG_0267rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laundry Day at the ol' homestead - did it all by hand with a bucket and my washing machine plunger</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JEkRxNa1g5A/WPT6HjCMysI/AAAAAAAAEuo/J07hViWGhoAyMMGTpSURJqmlPxfB5z3wwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0269rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JEkRxNa1g5A/WPT6HjCMysI/AAAAAAAAEuo/J07hViWGhoAyMMGTpSURJqmlPxfB5z3wwCLcB/s640/IMG_0269rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally got me a New Mexico sunset</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-51089466064245081592017-04-13T22:45:00.000-05:002017-04-13T22:45:45.921-05:00Bandelier National Monument <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I leave Las Vegas which is about 70 miles northeast of Santa Fe, drive around Santa Fe and head for Bandelier National Monument about 40 miles northwest of Santa Fe. I had planned to stay a night at the White Rock Visitor Center (water, electricity and a dump station) because it was supposed to drop down to about 32 degrees. It was basically a parking lot with a wonderful view of the main drag through White Rock. I just couldn't face that – and Miko would have been very disappointed also. I decided to put my big girl pants on and head for Juniper Campground which is located right inside the National Monument. No hookups. I've really only not had hookups maybe a couple of times and I needed to learn and remember how it is done. All in the pursuit of becoming self sufficient and not beholden to anyone. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I found myself a pretty nice site #39 in Coyote Loop. I barely fit and there was not much room for the Cooper but it was level. I had some issues with my refrigerator. Since I had no electrical hookups, it had to run on LP. For some reason it would all of a sudden stop running and when I tried to get it started again, it would just putt putt putt and then give up. If I waited a few hours (8), it would start up again and run for about 10 hours and then die again. Don't know what is the problem, but my frozen stuff seems to be staying frozen with this type of schedule. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Bandelier National Monument is in the Jemez Mountains. It only has three miles of public roads within its 33,750 acres, but there are 70 miles of trails. I did not do 70 miles of trails, in case anybody thought I might. The big draw in this monument is the Frijoles Canyon. Most of these three miles of paved road is a narrow road on the edge of a cliff that drops into the canyon. In the canyon are ruins from the ancestral pueblo people who inhabited this area around 1200s. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The trail I really wanted to do was a four mile round trip trail that went from from the mesa top down into the canyon. It was called the Frey Trail. The problem is that I just wanted to do the downhill portion of it, going straight uphill for two miles was really going to be too much for somebody like me. When I say straight uphill, I am not exaggerating much. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Fortunately, I met a guy named Neill (two lls in his name, don't forget). Neill was camped across the street from me. He had already been in the area for a few days and had all the down low on the trails. He very generously hatched a plan whereby we would drive both our cars down into the canyon and then he would drive me back up in his car to the top so I could walk down, pick up my car and then drive back up. I could never have done it otherwise. The downside to this was that now I was committed to having to actually do this trail in order to get my car back. And we all know how I feel about committing to anything. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The majority of National Park facilities do not allow dogs on their trails so I bid Miko farewell and started off down the trail. The first half of the trail was flat and it was a lovely walk. Weather was beautiful, scenic with the mountains in the background. Someplace along the trail, there was an actual bench and I had internet access. In the middle of nowhere, I was online. Ok, I know it is sort of sad that I had a small rest stop for the sole reason to get online. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PUg24HqY-sU/WPBDAIOwoLI/AAAAAAAAEtM/UiCLKXOV1OkgUtVuo12CzXcbrqyNAgmWwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0261rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PUg24HqY-sU/WPBDAIOwoLI/AAAAAAAAEtM/UiCLKXOV1OkgUtVuo12CzXcbrqyNAgmWwCLcB/s640/IMG_0261rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I then came to the part of the trail that descends 600 feet down into the canyon. 600 feet!!! I'm talking steep switchbacks. I'm talking cliffs. The trail is about three feet wide – no guard rails, nothing to stop you from plunging over the edge. I have to admit that for the first part of the trail, I was hugging the cliff wall as far away from the edge as I could. I think that according to the brochure, this trail was supposed to take you about an hour to get down. I think it took me maybe three hours. Good thing there was nobody else on the trail, it might have been embarrassing to have others hear me whimpering. Actually after I got past the very top portion of the trail, the drop off edge was a little more sloped and I realized if I went over the edge I would come down on the next switchback and I probably wouldn't die. It was touch and go for a while.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SAM7EHMjpSY/WPBDe8rZ9AI/AAAAAAAAEtU/gwb3N4FW7ScqYe369_2ZLAN51ou3l-l4gCEw/s1600/IMG_0248rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SAM7EHMjpSY/WPBDe8rZ9AI/AAAAAAAAEtU/gwb3N4FW7ScqYe369_2ZLAN51ou3l-l4gCEw/s640/IMG_0248rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm part way down </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m08IDv3DqjE/WPBDfNsx3FI/AAAAAAAAEtY/jPvCOscLCB0SG9A1Vt66r64yHUVM9Qv5ACEw/s1600/IMG_0255rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m08IDv3DqjE/WPBDfNsx3FI/AAAAAAAAEtY/jPvCOscLCB0SG9A1Vt66r64yHUVM9Qv5ACEw/s640/IMG_0255rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm almost at the bottom - these are some of the ruins</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TPFuOgnrZAk/WPBDeyJkTrI/AAAAAAAAEtQ/T6pu4fMWYf46Jm11D0UbxHdqRDz2AOe9wCEw/s1600/IMG_0256rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TPFuOgnrZAk/WPBDeyJkTrI/AAAAAAAAEtQ/T6pu4fMWYf46Jm11D0UbxHdqRDz2AOe9wCEw/s640/IMG_0256rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm down to the bottom</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am extremely proud to say I did the Frey Trail. It was a huge accomplishment for somebody who is afraid of heights. I came down the mountain. I walked on the edge of the cliffs. I am powerful. I am a mountain goat. I will probably never do that again, but it was way cool. Thank you Neill. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When I got down to the bottom, I walked the Main Loop and saw the ancestral pueblo ruins. I watched a movie and got my Deputy Ranger Patch. For people over the seventh grade level, they don't have a junior ranger badge, you become a deputy ranger. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">That night my fridge went out again and when I woke up the next morning I decided I would move on. I had a couple of other hikes that I wanted to do, but my fridge was worrisome – I had a lot of food that I didn't want to spoil. I want someplace where I can hook up with electricity. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I was going up to Abiquiu, where Georgia O'Keefe hung out. It was a beautiful drive – the mountains were incredible. I tried to take a lot of pictures out my front window as I drove.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gllbs2zl5L4/WPBFQgGziqI/AAAAAAAAEto/rRv3A20pjZA3y5zLXFZFfOoZFskwOZ2VwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2687rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gllbs2zl5L4/WPBFQgGziqI/AAAAAAAAEto/rRv3A20pjZA3y5zLXFZFfOoZFskwOZ2VwCLcB/s640/IMG_2687rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jp4YNmS6e4M/WPBFQ5TdMFI/AAAAAAAAEts/TzaASRL8ruAr7Jx0rMG-gvxCrytc--OVwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2689rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jp4YNmS6e4M/WPBFQ5TdMFI/AAAAAAAAEts/TzaASRL8ruAr7Jx0rMG-gvxCrytc--OVwCLcB/s640/IMG_2689rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CfhIOZChNCY/WPBFQtfL9LI/AAAAAAAAEtk/ceDJrgzJMwwanObbsrFeW2sAAlkcYX7bQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2690rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CfhIOZChNCY/WPBFQtfL9LI/AAAAAAAAEtk/ceDJrgzJMwwanObbsrFeW2sAAlkcYX7bQCLcB/s640/IMG_2690rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am heading for Riana Campground which is a Corp of Engineer campground. As I approach the campground, I am super excited because I see one of O'Keefe's favorite mountains getting closer and closer. I have seen so many paintings of this particular mountain and there it is, right there. I pull into the campground and it says Closed – Opening April 15. It is now April 12<sup>th</sup>. I guess I forgot to check that important little detail. I go into the ranger station and plead with them to let me in. Just give me a little corner, I don't need anything special, just a little corner to park. No go. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I end up driving another hour to Heron Lake State Park. Nice sites, I have water and electricity – there is hardly anybody else in the park. It will be a nice place to hang out until the 15<sup>th</sup> cause I am going to go back to Abiquiu. It is too important to me to miss.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-40790889081654718262017-04-09T13:15:00.000-05:002017-04-13T22:47:40.871-05:00The Land of Enchantment - Finally<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After a grueling drive through the wilds of Oklahoma, I made it to the “Land of Enchantment” - New Mexico. Northeastern New Mexico looks a lot like Oklahoma except the roads are a thousand times better and every now and then a volcano pops up in the landscape. It also seems to have many more miles of fences. Can we all sing "Don't Fence Me In"?&nbsp; </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I made it to Clayton Lake State Park – known for it's world renowned dinosaur tracks. I came down a steep hill and managed to score a prime spot on a cliff overlooking the lake. There has been a drought in New Mexico and the lake is down to a 19 foot level where normally it is 25-30 feet or so. The ranger told me I was very lucky to get into the campground because they are always really full. I felt sort of bad for him because for the two nights I was there, there were only a couple of other campers besides myself. Wishful thinking on his part? </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">First off, Miko and I head over to see the dinosaur tracks. I was seriously under impressed until I watched the little short film about them in the visitor center. I guess it is true that the more you know, the more you can understand and appreciate whatever the subject is. Now I'm thinking these tracks are amazing. One of the reasons that they consider these tracks special is because there are actual tail prints where some dinosaur walked and swished it's tail back and forth.&nbsp; It was sort of awe-inspiring actually to walk on the same ground and imagine these creatures here. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8tClq63p-lg/WOp34EiJGUI/AAAAAAAAEsg/MSTrow5PDMIhML86vCudXDrmxMd3LEBiACLcB/s1600/IMG_0205rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8tClq63p-lg/WOp34EiJGUI/AAAAAAAAEsg/MSTrow5PDMIhML86vCudXDrmxMd3LEBiACLcB/s640/IMG_0205rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I thought these were just eroded depressions but no - dinosaur tracks!!!!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--pQLY4dOMlc/WOp34bmK4RI/AAAAAAAAEsk/l4_SqEB15QM-siyoEUyZY6GoT7rPTocYACLcB/s1600/IMG_0206rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--pQLY4dOMlc/WOp34bmK4RI/AAAAAAAAEsk/l4_SqEB15QM-siyoEUyZY6GoT7rPTocYACLcB/s640/IMG_0206rs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was made by a large plant eating dinosaur</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We decided that we should walk around Clayton Lake. I asked the Ranger and he told me that when I get down to the far end of the lake, I will see a small game trail that I should follow to get back going down the other side of the lake. They hadn't made an official trail down the other side of the lake so I should follow this game trail. Mr. Ranger figured it was about a two mile trip. Ha! &nbsp; I, of course, did not find the game trail, I could not find a way to cross the creek that fed into the lake, we were getting farther and farther away from the campground &nbsp;– Miko and I finally jumped the creek and started bushwhacking our way back on the other side of the lake. The Gilligan's Island theme song kept going thru my head. According to my Fitbit, we completed a six mile jaunt. I was rather impressed with myself – this was my first hike after hibernating all winter up north and there was no way that I thought I could do that in my current out-of-shape self. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">My next door neighbor, who calls himself the Traveling Texan(aka Richard), made a huge pot of potato soup and invited me over.&nbsp; Nice guy, excellent cook.&nbsp; I thoroughly enjoyed dinner on the picnic table overlooking the lake.&nbsp; </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sj8LTzAQhlw/WOp4uaX3ajI/AAAAAAAAEss/QAX-KhMNlOQCAXnJCGCiZHGIwpXah-pawCLcB/s1600/IMG_0209rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sj8LTzAQhlw/WOp4uaX3ajI/AAAAAAAAEss/QAX-KhMNlOQCAXnJCGCiZHGIwpXah-pawCLcB/s640/IMG_0209rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View Out My Front Window</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IMNZ_cAvm4o/WOp4uc9jdGI/AAAAAAAAEsw/AYav80Z6reMnwtERnRSOtY_Ee21d8i9BwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0221rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IMNZ_cAvm4o/WOp4uc9jdGI/AAAAAAAAEsw/AYav80Z6reMnwtERnRSOtY_Ee21d8i9BwCLcB/s640/IMG_0221rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My RV site - cool, eh?</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There is no cell service at this park which means I have no online access. It really disgusts me how tied I am to my electronic devices. I actually was getting a little bit of the heebie jeebies not being able to connect. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We are in for a few really windy days – I decided to make a run for Las Vegas (New Mexico, not Nevada). I desperately need a dump station and Storrie Lake State Park had one. Of course when I got here, I found out that the dump station was closed and they don't turn on the water until May 15. I'm sort of stuck here for a couple of days because of the wind which is now supposed to gust up to 50 miles per hour. No way am I going to drive in that. Did I mention that Storrie Lake is know for windsurfing and other windsports? The wind comes swooping off the mountains in the west and makes the lake perfect for these sports. Excellent spot for someone as wind adverse as I am. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It is all ok – I have internet, I have shopping close by to replenish my supplies and I heard a rumor that there is a laundry in town. I also have a little picnic shelter that is all mine where I can hunker down out of the wind and look at the mountains. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kgxeLCbs3cI/WOp7Erfp37I/AAAAAAAAEs8/xyjNtqHn6VI2Z_7JcEqB-HMr2SVwqXJJwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0222rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kgxeLCbs3cI/WOp7Erfp37I/AAAAAAAAEs8/xyjNtqHn6VI2Z_7JcEqB-HMr2SVwqXJJwCLcB/s640/IMG_0222rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See the mountains?&nbsp; See Storrie Lake?&nbsp; See Miko hiding in our shelter?</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-11828498218231027622017-04-08T19:32:00.000-05:002017-04-13T22:48:51.186-05:00Git Along Down The Road<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Abilene Kansas – the home of the Chisholm Trail, land of cowboys and cows. It is a tiny little town, I didn't see any cowboys or cows. I did talk to a guy who had 200 head though – don't know if that counts. Lucky for me, the Eisenhower Presidential Museum and Library had just opened a new exhibit about the Chisholm Trail and the cattle drives. One year, 600,000 cattle came through Abilene. Wild Bill Hickcock was a sheriff here and John Wesley Hardin was a deputy sheriff.&nbsp; &nbsp; I learned all about cowboy fashion, a subject that I guess I was woefully ignorant about. This was an exhibit well worth viewing. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--uqRRSHVZmc/WOl92ErC6QI/AAAAAAAAErk/iEqd4V49BzANH7liyADvtjCs_2yFjV9TwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2665rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--uqRRSHVZmc/WOl92ErC6QI/AAAAAAAAErk/iEqd4V49BzANH7liyADvtjCs_2yFjV9TwCLcB/s640/IMG_2665rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have a fondness for Presidential Library. They have a tendency to make men very big and wonderful no matter how little they might actually be. I, in no way, mean to imply that Dwight David Eisenhower was one of those little men. We all know who I am probably referring to and we will just leave it at that.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I watched the obligatory movie about Eisenhower's life and then I toured his boyhood home. He was one of seven boys and since there were no girls, Ma Eisenhower made sure all her boys could cook, clean and sew. Eisenhower wanted to go to the Naval Academy but ended up at West Point where he fell in love with tanks. He was an infantry guy through and through. The museum was really heavy on Eisenhower's war experiences, I suppose rightly so as he was the Supreme Commander of the Army and was in charge for the D-Day invasion. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DHbIadUa2T4/WOl-IOyNU6I/AAAAAAAAEro/w6wUTH8WTroHe1C70k9sbV5R9iksgleHgCLcB/s1600/IMG_2661rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DHbIadUa2T4/WOl-IOyNU6I/AAAAAAAAEro/w6wUTH8WTroHe1C70k9sbV5R9iksgleHgCLcB/s640/IMG_2661rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This house was actually considered to be on the wrong side of the tracks in Abilene. I think it is lovely.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I found the exhibits about his Presidency to be much more interesting. Maybe that was because I lived through those presidential years and the war was before my time. Eisenhower's years were the Cold War years, the fifties. The years where we all learned that in case of nuclear attack, we huddle under our school desks and put our hands over our head. The museum touts the fact that one of the primary accomplishments of his term was the fact that he kept the peace. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wfRfjzUR5gY/WOl-c2bx_XI/AAAAAAAAErs/AdBpaBD0M_4CSpN0ZM7NYWBGeSMul0c8wCEw/s1600/IMG_2663rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wfRfjzUR5gY/WOl-c2bx_XI/AAAAAAAAErs/AdBpaBD0M_4CSpN0ZM7NYWBGeSMul0c8wCEw/s640/IMG_2663rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I found the exhibits on Mamie Doud Eisenhower to be eye opening. Who knew that she was named one of the ten best dressed women in the nation not once but ten times. And those bangs – don't get me started on her bangs.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EG8z4EAIoCw/WOl-dHmIzLI/AAAAAAAAEr4/m4wWnofyvuAdWfN3x1kKE13JakGnJSFIwCEw/s1600/mamie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EG8z4EAIoCw/WOl-dHmIzLI/AAAAAAAAEr4/m4wWnofyvuAdWfN3x1kKE13JakGnJSFIwCEw/s320/mamie.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture from the web</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Across the street from the Eisenhower complex was the Greyhound Hall of Fame museum. As you enter this museum, you are greeted by Gary and Ginger, the two resident greyhounds. Such sweet, gentle creatures. The museum was almost totally about greyhound racing – sort of a soup to nuts discussion about racing. They showed the greyhound breeding farms, the training and then the actual racing. I would have liked to see something more about the greyhounds themselves – their temperament, how they do as pets – the day to day type of things.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKwdijljQSg/WOl-dAATM9I/AAAAAAAAEr0/t5Cvlw1NUygCSFU88yOuxtHaeirUL0fhgCEw/s1600/IMG_2669rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKwdijljQSg/WOl-dAATM9I/AAAAAAAAEr0/t5Cvlw1NUygCSFU88yOuxtHaeirUL0fhgCEw/s640/IMG_2669rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Gary is in the back - he really couldn't be bothered.&nbsp; Ginger was much more the socialite</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So far on this trip, it has been three days of rain – solid rain. I can travel in the rain, but winds – not so much. The forecast was for gusts building up to 40 miles an hour during the day. I got up at 6:00 AM – yes, you read that right. My one troublemaker tire was low again, but luckily I was right across the street from Bob's Tires. I swung over there and they diagnosed my issue – my stem extender was loose. Tightened it up, filled with air and I'm on the road. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BQuWWethI6c/WOl-dDXyzqI/AAAAAAAAErw/KNQQ4v3uqlQxdJlqhuJ9GYFjgSwKxVVFACEw/s1600/IMG_0185rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BQuWWethI6c/WOl-dDXyzqI/AAAAAAAAErw/KNQQ4v3uqlQxdJlqhuJ9GYFjgSwKxVVFACEw/s640/IMG_0185rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My site at Covered Wagon RV Park - charming......not - but great wifi.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I drive for three hours and get to Larned, Kansas. I am really glad that I didn't have to drive any further than that – the winds were getting strong enough to knock you over. I had planned to stay at Camp Pawnee, a small county park, but with the three days of rain and parking on the grass, I was worried that I would sink in and have to be pulled out. Besides that, there was only one other camper there and first impressions was that I would not be comfortable there. So, I ended up at an overpriced parking lot in the Rodeway Inn. It was good for the night, although totally lacking in charm.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I was here to visit Fort Larned. Fort Larned is a national site – a fort from the late 1800's. It's sole purpose was to guard the Santa Fe Trail. Typical Fort, Typical Junior Ranger Book. The rangers were wonderful here – when I told them I had a dog with me, they said I could bring her in to all of the buildings. They were breaking the NPS rules!!!!! They were Alt Rangers!!!!! They were fun to talk with about a variety of conversations everything from Fort Larned to Nazi war trials and prisons. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vhEz7m9OTLs/WOl_hWEMB0I/AAAAAAAAEsE/J2yXDdJAfc0AY_9XIpoYr6pcJIvrDM3AgCLcB/s1600/IMG_0191rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vhEz7m9OTLs/WOl_hWEMB0I/AAAAAAAAEsE/J2yXDdJAfc0AY_9XIpoYr6pcJIvrDM3AgCLcB/s640/IMG_0191rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out those clouds</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I wandered on down the road. Perhaps I should say that as of right now, Oklahoma has my award for having the worst roads in the nation. I've been down the east side and also the west side of the state and the roads are atrocious. Although, I do have to say that there is not much to see in Oklahoma so it became a great sport to weave down the highway avoiding the massive potholes that occur every few feet. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8u0_GLCt10E/WOl_vL7F9FI/AAAAAAAAEsI/xwQ8QooRe4cdXO-ssM06gvGASCDv99GlACLcB/s1600/IMG_2674rs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8u0_GLCt10E/WOl_vL7F9FI/AAAAAAAAEsI/xwQ8QooRe4cdXO-ssM06gvGASCDv99GlACLcB/s640/IMG_2674rs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup - this is Oklahoma folks</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-35921465327852841062017-04-04T10:07:00.000-05:002017-04-04T10:07:48.655-05:00This And That<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Seems I got a little bit of a late start this year with the winter trip. Life sort of got in the way which gave me some much needed time with my family and friends.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This blog is going to be very short on pictures(as in non-existent) and will just be a series of vignettes. Excellent fodder for late at night when you can't sleep. </div><div style="border-bottom: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; margin-bottom: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For the first trip of the year, there is always a ton of stuff to bring out to the RV – everything needs to be restocked. I tend to bring stuff out in shifts because a) I have a tiny car that doesn't hold all that much and b) I'm not all that organized with what I need to bring. I usually bring almost everything out in brown paper grocery bags. So, I'm loading my car and I have a bag that has a few small kitchen appliances in it. I decide that I will lay the bag down on it's side in the back seat of the car because there are some breakables in the bag and I feel that it will be safer. Of course I forgot that I had slid in a bottle of soy sauce.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I'm driving along and this salty Asian restaurant smell starts wafting through the car. Yup – the bottle had magically opened and leaked through my brown paper bag all over the back seat. Luckily I had a fairly thick canvas seat protector across the back seat to protect it from Miko's massive amounts of hair. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Soy sauce reeks and it stains. There was much clean up and I took a hose to the canvas seat cover. I drove around quite a few miles with the moon roof and windows open. Nothing was getting that smell out until I hit on the idea of using an odor neutralizer. Now why in the world would they make an odor neutralizer smell like a bunch of roses on steroids? Well, my car now is very rosy smelling.</div><div style="border-bottom: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; margin-bottom: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have an external tire pressure monitor system on my RV. Tony and I went out one day to change the batteries on the monitoring units. On the day I'm leaving, I double check all my tires and they are all correctly around 95 psi with the exception of one tire which is at 27psi. Evidently I inadvertently screwed one of them on incorrectly which caused the tire to basically deflate. The owner of the RV storage area had a small compressor which got me up to 50 psi, enough to move a short distance down the road, but I had to find a truck stop so I could get the tire all the way up to where the tire needed to be. Sort of a late start on Day 1 of the trip. </div><div style="border-bottom: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; margin-bottom: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When I am heading south, I always like to spend my first night at Terrible's Casino which is about a half hour south of Des Moines in Osceola Iowa. I should say that it is actually called Lakeside Hotel Casino but when I first started going there, it was called Terrible's. I can understand perhaps why they changed the name, but it will always be Terrible's for me. I don't know why I like to stay there besides the fact it is about the right driving distance on the first day but every time I stay, there is bad weather. I've been there through a blizzard, a major wind storm where the whole rig shuddered so bad I thought of Dorthy on her way to Oz and this last time was pouring rain. It was OK though, this time I was able to de-winterize and knock on wood, all systems seem to have survived the winter. </div><div style="border-bottom: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; margin-bottom: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I decided that the $5 toll on the Kansas turnpike was way too much to spend so I instructed Google Maps to avoid tolls. Avoiding that $5 only added about 20 minutes to the trip and got me off the freeway into more rural areas. Much more entertaining and scenic&nbsp;than following the Interstate. I was someplace in western Missouri going down a two lane road. On each side of the road were those massive wind turbines. There were many farms along this road and many of them had signs that said “Don't sell your land to a Florida wind company”. Evidently there was a little bit of a 'power' struggle going on. Oh, did I mention that the name of the company was The Windy Wind Company. Cute, huh?</div><div style="border-bottom: 1.00pt solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; margin-bottom: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It rained most of yesterday and today as I was driving down the road. Did you know that my windshield wipers at high speed have the exact same tempo as SuperTramp's song Long Way Home?</div><div style="border-bottom: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; margin-bottom: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I entered Kansas and was extremely surprised at how hilly eastern Kansas is. I have always thought of Kansas as flat, flat, flat. Eastern Kansas is where the Flint Hills are. Gorgeous country. Huge tallgrass prairie hills. There is a National Tallgrass Prairie Preserve here that I was thinking of stopping at, but seeing as how it is spring, all of the Tallgrass is only a couple of inches tall. It would probably be a tad underwhelming.</div><div style="border-bottom: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; margin-bottom: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I eventually got back on Interstate 70. As I was cruising through Kansas I saw a sign that said that the next eight miles of the road were the very first segment that was paved and completed in the Interstate Highway System. As we all know, President Eisenhower is considered the Father of the Interstate Highway system and he just happens to be from Abilene Kansas. Must be why they started building in this area. </div><div style="border-bottom: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; margin-bottom: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ok, over and out. I'm spending a few days in Abilene, Kansas. Don't know how long I will be here. The weather forecast says that high winds with gusts up to 40 mph are on the way. Winds that high give new meaning to the term “rock and roll” </div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-50240727707636362672016-10-10T22:19:00.003-05:002016-10-10T22:19:57.697-05:00Into The Past - How Far Can We Go? <div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It is time to leave Watkins Glen. Shoulda stayed longer, shoulda hiked the Gorge again. Shoulda, Coulda. </div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Down in southern New York, there is a little town called Corning which hosts a giant Museum called the Corning Museum of Glass. This is a must-see for anybody who likes glass. This museum is like the Disneyland of Glass, without the rides and the mouse ears. The gift shop alone was bigger than my house. </div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The first area you enter is the Contemporary Art + Design(1990-2015) area which showcases artists who are stretching the boundaries of what we think glass should be into what glass could be. Some of it was just plain&nbsp;ugly – whoops – perhaps I'm not cool enough to see the artistic vision that was sought after. Some of it was weird and entertaining and some of it was beautiful. </div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vH_Z733RfgE/V_xWZAPpqDI/AAAAAAAAEos/m4B0t-USnwURzQ8prgHp2Lw_n9x7L-S_wCLcB/s1600/IMG_2588%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vH_Z733RfgE/V_xWZAPpqDI/AAAAAAAAEos/m4B0t-USnwURzQ8prgHp2Lw_n9x7L-S_wCLcB/s640/IMG_2588%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qeb1kvNem7E/V_xWZVLI6eI/AAAAAAAAEow/PgUGLoAXY1ERf8IfJl6MlZr4iajf830mgCLcB/s1600/IMG_2589%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qeb1kvNem7E/V_xWZVLI6eI/AAAAAAAAEow/PgUGLoAXY1ERf8IfJl6MlZr4iajf830mgCLcB/s640/IMG_2589%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hard to see but a lot of lacy glass<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eWm6d3rxZBI/V_xWrA2XlqI/AAAAAAAAEo0/WnzMB6zAFUMwZZicTLzhxNMe5ErCiQitwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2590%2Brs%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eWm6d3rxZBI/V_xWrA2XlqI/AAAAAAAAEo0/WnzMB6zAFUMwZZicTLzhxNMe5ErCiQitwCLcB/s640/IMG_2590%2Brs%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NCazutjIAnQ/V_xWrZSY_9I/AAAAAAAAEo4/e9y6htVmJl4ZyYioNQzJaWW4p1XGHGOYACLcB/s1600/IMG_2591%2Brs%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NCazutjIAnQ/V_xWrZSY_9I/AAAAAAAAEo4/e9y6htVmJl4ZyYioNQzJaWW4p1XGHGOYACLcB/s640/IMG_2591%2Brs%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The other major gallery was called 35 Centuries of Glass which was fascinating. They had glass samples from well, 35 centuries ago up to fairly contemporary times. The displays were really well done and it flowed from country to country and glass making method to glass making method. I was especially enamored of the paperweight displays – I have a small collection at home and it was wonderful to see samples from the major paperweight houses. </div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I'm walking through the many centuries and what do I come across but an actual window from the Darwin Martin House that I toured in Buffalo.&nbsp; That was rather special how everything&nbsp;seems to be&nbsp;tied together. </div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fad2ECX346c/V_xW8YDjs2I/AAAAAAAAEpA/OGNRdR5Ahoci7IP1p-7eMyd1_C899AE0wCLcB/s1600/IMG_2596%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fad2ECX346c/V_xW8YDjs2I/AAAAAAAAEpA/OGNRdR5Ahoci7IP1p-7eMyd1_C899AE0wCLcB/s640/IMG_2596%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Interspersed between all the galleries were several different demo labs. I sat in on a basic how to make a blown pumpkin. What was interesting, besides the glass blowing, was the audience. There was a huge Chinese contingent so they had a translator. The English speaker guy would talk rather in a monotone and then the Chinese woman would speak. She was jumping up and down, laughing, doing her own little demo of what the glass blowers were doing. I couldn't understand a word, but she was probably the most entertaining part of the whole demo. There were several other demos throughout the day that sounded interesting (glass breaking demo – huh?) but none of them fit into my schedule.</div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5nvq6opmp2Q/V_xW8JRSwwI/AAAAAAAAEo8/r3-JKELaokIQvepjwt2eEom7iwWH6eOfwCEw/s1600/IMG_2597%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5nvq6opmp2Q/V_xW8JRSwwI/AAAAAAAAEo8/r3-JKELaokIQvepjwt2eEom7iwWH6eOfwCEw/s640/IMG_2597%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hassidic Jew and Roman Catholic Chess Set</td></tr></tbody></table><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Some people have sometimes called me obsessive - I think of myself as being very focused and rather a completist.&nbsp;&nbsp; Case in point - I think I need to visit all 400-some National parks, monument, historical sites, battlefields etc. I mean, all these sites belong to me (and America)&nbsp;- I need to check them all out, make sure that they are doing all right.&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;do get&nbsp; a kick out of them.&nbsp; Now I have that Junior Ranger thing going also.&nbsp; But, after spending a few weeks chasing after these National Sites, I get to a point where I just don't care anymore.&nbsp; I know the next trip I take, I will be right back at it, but I am pretty much done with the whole National scene at the moment.&nbsp; I had about six more sites on my radar for this trip and I just&nbsp;decided I don't need to go see them.&nbsp; Enough is enough.</div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So, I made a right turn somewhere in Pennsylvania and headed for southeastern Indiana.&nbsp; It is sort of on the way home, isn't it?&nbsp; The reason?&nbsp; I was heading to the land of my ancestors - my people&nbsp;settled in Metamora Indiana in 1811.&nbsp; I thought I should go find out what was up with them.&nbsp; </div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The library in Brookville has quite an extensive genealogy department and I spent several days digging through their collection.&nbsp; It was very satisfying.&nbsp; My timing was really great also as when I was there, they had a genealogy conference going on which was&nbsp;much fun.&nbsp; What is not to like talking about lost dead people and how to find them, plus there were a lot of munchies.&nbsp;</div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I also mixed it up a bit and visited a few graveyards to pay my respects to these new found family members.&nbsp; What was fun was that I visited one graveyard on a Sunday morning.&nbsp; The church, which I think was a Pentecostal church&nbsp;was getting their religion on.&nbsp; They had a band and there was a lot of whooping and hollering and some really good music.&nbsp; Almost made me get down on my knees and raise my hand to the sky.&nbsp;</div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kc_D2SKclBQ/V_xXbF9IVkI/AAAAAAAAEpM/cRH2xDA7qgwEenQ_2LvnyDwuh6srLsTWwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2622%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kc_D2SKclBQ/V_xXbF9IVkI/AAAAAAAAEpM/cRH2xDA7qgwEenQ_2LvnyDwuh6srLsTWwCLcB/s640/IMG_2622%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GGG-Grandma and Grandpa</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o57UEdgzCwg/V_xXa7_hKdI/AAAAAAAAEpI/xd38SONDZb8bQlP9WHC6e1IeyspsRBDvwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2634%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o57UEdgzCwg/V_xXa7_hKdI/AAAAAAAAEpI/xd38SONDZb8bQlP9WHC6e1IeyspsRBDvwCLcB/s640/IMG_2634%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Half of Duck Creek Cemetery taken out the car window - I looked at every single one of these stones up close and personal</td></tr></tbody></table><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div lang="en" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-36095204887064313112016-10-07T07:35:00.001-05:002016-10-07T07:35:21.513-05:00The Final Frontier<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">When I started the 2016 Fall Journey, there were two sights that really pulled me. One was the Women's Rights Monument in Seneca Falls and the other was Watkins Glen. I had heard so much about Watkins Glen over the years that there was no way I was going to miss it. Watkins Glen, the town, was a touristy little town, but Watkins Glen, the Gorge, was the main event.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">Miko was not allowed on the Gorge Trail, only on the Rim Trails so she had to stay home. I was on my own to hike up the gorge for a mile and a half. No easy mile and a half either – did I mention the 800 steps you also have to climb. A mile and a half out plus 800 steps up and a mile and a half back with 800 steps down. It sounded horrible, but it really wasn't too bad. There would be maybe a couple of flights of stairs up and then there would be a level path for a bit before the next flight of stairs. Mother Nature thoughtfully arranged to have some beautiful scenic sights at the top of each of these flights that you really had to pause to admire and reflect on (and perhaps catch your breath). It is all worth it for the 19 waterfalls you get to see.&nbsp; There were even a few you could walk behind.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">When I started hiking, there was a steady stream of people and we all marched along in line. About half way up the gorge, it started to rain and magically people started to disappear. In fact on my way back, I hardly met anybody coming up the gorge which made for some wonderful personal moments with Ol' Ma Nature.&nbsp; Watkins Glen did not disappoint.&nbsp; &nbsp;</span></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike><br /></strike><strike><br /></strike><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ttWQInaCgl8/V_MFOW3b3GI/AAAAAAAAEnU/s6SqSF1p7NoYZFEwP2WmMORcKx_FaLHDgCLcB/s1600/IMG_2546%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ttWQInaCgl8/V_MFOW3b3GI/AAAAAAAAEnU/s6SqSF1p7NoYZFEwP2WmMORcKx_FaLHDgCLcB/s640/IMG_2546%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zTiPSHn5AUw/V_MFOl1payI/AAAAAAAAEnY/Aa6tFkT2B8MvAOU2ExPW_rFZOJOGO3FIACLcB/s1600/IMG_2548%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zTiPSHn5AUw/V_MFOl1payI/AAAAAAAAEnY/Aa6tFkT2B8MvAOU2ExPW_rFZOJOGO3FIACLcB/s640/IMG_2548%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice people climbing the stairs in the background</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EeSPUXkUvXY/V_MFwRCFIOI/AAAAAAAAEng/9h07CNb_0WgS2_o-u7lPnd8jcqbSydj0ACLcB/s1600/IMG_2549%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EeSPUXkUvXY/V_MFwRCFIOI/AAAAAAAAEng/9h07CNb_0WgS2_o-u7lPnd8jcqbSydj0ACLcB/s640/IMG_2549%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pe-sc__r_Rk/V_MFwCXVSOI/AAAAAAAAEnc/MQZahJa5GuQ1RmYwve8omsuoIn9Ieag9wCLcB/s1600/IMG_2561%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pe-sc__r_Rk/V_MFwCXVSOI/AAAAAAAAEnc/MQZahJa5GuQ1RmYwve8omsuoIn9Ieag9wCLcB/s640/IMG_2561%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PmYj32oH-CY/V_MGFRX-IxI/AAAAAAAAEno/o06t5BmKaGQ1iwDRDrpJS9bbfyx1Ic-ZQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2566%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PmYj32oH-CY/V_MGFRX-IxI/AAAAAAAAEno/o06t5BmKaGQ1iwDRDrpJS9bbfyx1Ic-ZQCLcB/s640/IMG_2566%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uz6uw2KBrDI/V_MGFO-t4TI/AAAAAAAAEnk/GMR_Zm7wW6cH1x3CS2GfE21gB1IqWntkgCLcB/s1600/IMG_2568%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uz6uw2KBrDI/V_MGFO-t4TI/AAAAAAAAEnk/GMR_Zm7wW6cH1x3CS2GfE21gB1IqWntkgCLcB/s640/IMG_2568%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aLN0cEVCkDQ/V_MGgurqM4I/AAAAAAAAEnw/BS6nEgDQ-jMosvkSaIO52eKWSdLIuILnQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2571%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aLN0cEVCkDQ/V_MGgurqM4I/AAAAAAAAEnw/BS6nEgDQ-jMosvkSaIO52eKWSdLIuILnQCLcB/s640/IMG_2571%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zQZWHxiD42w/V_MGgGZRSNI/AAAAAAAAEns/rG1gvDg9dqMRB7n3WqM12ZpPryPELdEoQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2575%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zQZWHxiD42w/V_MGgGZRSNI/AAAAAAAAEns/rG1gvDg9dqMRB7n3WqM12ZpPryPELdEoQCLcB/s640/IMG_2575%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gUFWhfM81wE/V_MG1aq6vMI/AAAAAAAAEn8/ygFp7flaoIYjR6w4UK15FV1cX5T8a04fACLcB/s1600/IMG_2577%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gUFWhfM81wE/V_MG1aq6vMI/AAAAAAAAEn8/ygFp7flaoIYjR6w4UK15FV1cX5T8a04fACLcB/s640/IMG_2577%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4OIaK_PLb50/V_MG1UIvjBI/AAAAAAAAEn4/WIAE5oP8n6Iy_80mCSVyPZ8CMPTZquDTACLcB/s1600/IMG_2586%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4OIaK_PLb50/V_MG1UIvjBI/AAAAAAAAEn4/WIAE5oP8n6Iy_80mCSVyPZ8CMPTZquDTACLcB/s640/IMG_2586%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-67600678087494073992016-10-04T07:11:00.000-05:002016-10-04T07:11:55.293-05:00We Be Rockin' These State Parks<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">Stellar day today – walked gorges in three (count them), three state parks. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">I started with Cuyuga State Park where I had been camping for three nights. Miko and I did our normal walk to the wave-catching lake, through a tunnel and then back home where I packed up the RV and headed out for a big hour drive to our next state park.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">Taughannock state park. We were only here for a couple of hours to see the 215 foot vertical waterfall which is 33 feet taller than Niagara Falls. There is a 3/4 mile wooded trail down to the waterfall. We hadn't gotten too far when I noticed people walking on a big flat area next to the trail. Turns out this was the actual riverbed for Taughannock Creek. For the last nine months, this area of New York has been under a severe drought. The creek has done dried up. It is probably not the best year to go in search of New York waterfalls. That said, it was interesting to see what the riverbed looked like – all rock, not any sand like what I would expect. This is rock that has been chiseled out. When I got to the waterfall, it was nothing but a trickle.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HL7u7f0RMPg/V_G1DHi3koI/AAAAAAAAEmg/NbMJXwZLo0kWzT10w8Oy05XXomBm3NUtwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2503%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HL7u7f0RMPg/V_G1DHi3koI/AAAAAAAAEmg/NbMJXwZLo0kWzT10w8Oy05XXomBm3NUtwCLcB/s640/IMG_2503%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dry riverbed</td></tr></tbody></table><span lang="en"></span><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><span lang="en"></span> <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jbB0Jp-3CfA/V_G1CktI1jI/AAAAAAAAEmc/Ck1F0yHgPwM6Bv8MdhIPPWiTQJIWz_G6QCEw/s1600/250px-Taughannock_Falls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jbB0Jp-3CfA/V_G1CktI1jI/AAAAAAAAEmc/Ck1F0yHgPwM6Bv8MdhIPPWiTQJIWz_G6QCEw/s640/250px-Taughannock_Falls.jpg" width="615" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>What it is supposed to look like (picture from the web)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v2yUBuUqFBs/V_G1DrCKRPI/AAAAAAAAEmk/c1_e2oy8F_Q0lxt2zUo8AqGLl__jpq5QgCEw/s1600/IMG_2512%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v2yUBuUqFBs/V_G1DrCKRPI/AAAAAAAAEmk/c1_e2oy8F_Q0lxt2zUo8AqGLl__jpq5QgCEw/s640/IMG_2512%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What it looks like now</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">We then moved on to Robert H. Treman State Park which is right outside of Ithaca New York. It was another twenty minutes down the road. This area of New York is ripe with state parks. I am spending the night here at this park. Scored the last electrical site. Yay Me!!! Interesting that to get to the campground I had to cross a creek – no bridge, just drive through the creek bed.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yRNC0E9ds4Y/V_G2OYyAnvI/AAAAAAAAEmw/9u62bxLrfOIa4SHpFvfOr8mDTk7-JKRwQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2543%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yRNC0E9ds4Y/V_G2OYyAnvI/AAAAAAAAEmw/9u62bxLrfOIa4SHpFvfOr8mDTk7-JKRwQCLcB/s640/IMG_2543%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the creek to get to the campground</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">This is hilly country and it was rather difficult to get level. The people on the ridge behind me had to back up right to the edge of the drop to hook up to electricity. They actually had a many tiered wooden structure on the hill to try to get themselves level. It really looked like an accident ready to happen. I leant them my 30 amp electrical cord so that they could get off of the ledge and I was really glad that I had because that night it poured rain, I'm talking serious rain, and I think if they had been balanced precariously&nbsp;like they were, they might have just slid downhill into my rig. No, I'm not a nice guy, it is all about self protection – didn't want them to slid down the hill into my rig. They were actually lovely people, but I'm glad that everything just worked out.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">Robert H. Treman had a lovely gorge walk. I think it was the first time on this trip that I actually felt like I was hiking. There were actual hills here and many many steps, created by the CCC that I went up and down. Ran into a bunch of young men who were at an overlook, drinking beer and being crazy young guys. Miko, being her usual gregarious self, went over to introduce herself and one of the guys told her she was too young to drink beer. I, of course, had to correct him because in dog years she is 28 years old, definitely old enough to drink beer. She did not partake as she had more important things to do like head down the trail. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">This was a lovely gorge to hike and even though there was a drought, there was enough water falling to make this a gorgeous hike. The main draw is Lucifer Falls which is a 115 foot multi-tiered drop. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jXgeG64za1w/V_G2mFMV_rI/AAAAAAAAEm4/L9jjda_tYMM2opVudwQaoi5bMnJloUEcgCLcB/s1600/IMG_2529%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jXgeG64za1w/V_G2mFMV_rI/AAAAAAAAEm4/L9jjda_tYMM2opVudwQaoi5bMnJloUEcgCLcB/s640/IMG_2529%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stairway to Heaven</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-542bzqcgZ1o/V_G2lQRsVCI/AAAAAAAAEm0/RHx45b-rRL4n1pHz_9EpkhHsbASONwaZwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2530%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-542bzqcgZ1o/V_G2lQRsVCI/AAAAAAAAEm0/RHx45b-rRL4n1pHz_9EpkhHsbASONwaZwCLcB/s640/IMG_2530%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucifer Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ODlkKxerHJ8/V_G28vvUKEI/AAAAAAAAEnA/KBzvcLyiY10cdxRQXkRtEV44y3Mh_BDbwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2534%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ODlkKxerHJ8/V_G28vvUKEI/AAAAAAAAEnA/KBzvcLyiY10cdxRQXkRtEV44y3Mh_BDbwCLcB/s640/IMG_2534%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More Lucifer Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j0Rtcgtyq0Q/V_G28CR-doI/AAAAAAAAEm8/gSTkVBSx3kg6BD8mqUtpunl-d5ARdSZuQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2536%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j0Rtcgtyq0Q/V_G28CR-doI/AAAAAAAAEm8/gSTkVBSx3kg6BD8mqUtpunl-d5ARdSZuQCLcB/s640/IMG_2536%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miko actually looking like she might like her picture taken</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-37535331185525897262016-10-02T16:12:00.000-05:002016-10-02T16:12:05.700-05:00Auburn New York <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">Today I'm off to Auburn, just a few miles down the road from Seneca Falls. I have three sights to see and I'm going to start off with the one I thought I was least interested in and work my way up to what I was really interested in seeing. I think I've mentioned before that a friend of mine once said that it is the stuff you think is going to be the most uninteresting and boring that turn out to be really special places. This happened today.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">I went to the William H. Seward House Museum. We all know Seward from learning a tiny little bit about him in school. He is the guy who bought Alaska from Russia for us. Seward's Folly and all that. So this will be another pretty house with original furnishings from the era. Yes, that was true, but there was so much more. Besides being a Governor and Senator from New York, he was also Secretary of State. He was responsible for keeping Britain and France out of our Civil War and was very close to President Lincoln. They say that most of the famous Lincoln speeches were either written by or heavily edited by Seward. This guy was a power house. There was even an assassination attempt on Seward as part of the conspiracy that ended up with Lincoln being assassinated. Nothing makes or breaks a historical site like a docent. The one I had touring the Seward house was fabulous. He made you live the history. When he was talking about the assassination attempt, I was breathless, waiting to hear what happened next. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">Fun Fact: Lincoln was 6'6” tall. Seward was 5'3”.&nbsp; Can you imagine the two of them hanging out together?&nbsp; &nbsp;On the second floor of the house, Seward had put portraits of all of the famous people he met and there were a lot of them, from Queen Victoria to von Bismarck.&nbsp; He cataloged and numbered all of the portraits. Lincoln's portrait was number 66 because of his height. Seward's portrait was listed as 66 1/2. What a scalawag that Seward was.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RuaEvyQCPpE/V_F0dX7n8GI/AAAAAAAAElw/6IuFCypSfUQfMgUGMDjeYQ7stFSs0YnCwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2481%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RuaEvyQCPpE/V_F0dX7n8GI/AAAAAAAAElw/6IuFCypSfUQfMgUGMDjeYQ7stFSs0YnCwCLcB/s640/IMG_2481%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A pretty grand house - it had 30 rooms</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-39LavqQIjsE/V_F0eza_STI/AAAAAAAAEl0/E2dFNNsqgqIWHnaXUcNiO7oETW7wPFWLwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2480%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-39LavqQIjsE/V_F0eza_STI/AAAAAAAAEl0/E2dFNNsqgqIWHnaXUcNiO7oETW7wPFWLwCLcB/s640/IMG_2480%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary Todd Lincoln sent Seward the flowers from Lincoln's casket and Seward had them framed</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">On to Harriet Tubman's house. Harriet Tubman was known as the 'Moses' of her people. She was born a slave, escaped to freedom and then brought many of her relatives up north. I think I talked about her before on a previous blog when I was in Macon Georgia. She ended up settling in Auburn on land the Seward helped her acquire. Back in the day, there was no place for elderly people of color to go – all of the old age homes were for white folk, so she decided that she needed to start a home. There was a twenty minute orientation on her life and then a tour of the home she created for these old folks. Got to say again, a good docent makes a difference and this was just not on the same level as the Seward house tour.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2lfOC4o69vA/V_F0_GcMb-I/AAAAAAAAEl4/gJheSBdPiCU4agTzMuuvCBIsqIStO-B4QCLcB/s1600/IMG_2482%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2lfOC4o69vA/V_F0_GcMb-I/AAAAAAAAEl4/gJheSBdPiCU4agTzMuuvCBIsqIStO-B4QCLcB/s640/IMG_2482%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tubman Home For the Aged - Just your basic farmhouse</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">On to the Willard Chapel. This chapel was built in 1892-94 and is the only surviving complete installation by Louis Tiffany in it's original location. Tiffany designed the stained glass windows, the mosaic floor( created by Irish Catholic immigrant women because they supposedly had smaller hands), the chandeliers, stenciling, carvings – the whole kit and caboodle. Unfortunately, when I was there, it was a cloudy day and no sun was coming through the window. The docent kept apologizing, saying that we all need to come back to see the true glory. Also, because it was so cloudy and dark, not many of the pictures turned out. Oh well, I guess that is what memories are for but take my word, it was a damn fine place.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xBc2FbsOvNk/V_F1atZTR7I/AAAAAAAAEmE/CxSNvyX2pJE2BSt6C4WKsP_aOk74P3j_QCLcB/s1600/IMG_2501%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xBc2FbsOvNk/V_F1atZTR7I/AAAAAAAAEmE/CxSNvyX2pJE2BSt6C4WKsP_aOk74P3j_QCLcB/s640/IMG_2501%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Willard Chapel - Richardsonian Romanesque Architecture (are you impressed?)</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AC1T0d9qMiY/V_F1VV-kRpI/AAAAAAAAEmA/0XgXErLE2OYyqD60Z-YKp8OaURzTLox0QCEw/s1600/IMG_2484%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AC1T0d9qMiY/V_F1VV-kRpI/AAAAAAAAEmA/0XgXErLE2OYyqD60Z-YKp8OaURzTLox0QCEw/s640/IMG_2484%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The brown pendulum in the center is actually a raised piece of glass</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D5DIpvV9-JQ/V_F1VSx_0aI/AAAAAAAAEl8/BJI85LmmQzI5GxX6NdnKdTL4RGqPxhT1gCEw/s1600/IMG_2489%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D5DIpvV9-JQ/V_F1VSx_0aI/AAAAAAAAEl8/BJI85LmmQzI5GxX6NdnKdTL4RGqPxhT1gCEw/s640/IMG_2489%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the podium</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mercJqf1RWk/V_F1a5PQNaI/AAAAAAAAEmI/jjeDlW66KsEfmvY3T5droiHuxcVG4WvhwCEw/s1600/IMG_2500%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mercJqf1RWk/V_F1a5PQNaI/AAAAAAAAEmI/jjeDlW66KsEfmvY3T5droiHuxcVG4WvhwCEw/s640/IMG_2500%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When the 7th Day Adventists took over the Chapel, they painted over all the stenciling and the deep maroon walls with this off white color.&nbsp; As the chapel gets more money, they are hoping to restore the walls back to the original color</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">I think I'm getting sick – either that or allergies. I pulled out a new box of Puffs, opened the box up and this strong smell started wafting through the RV. Evidently, they are now putting Vick's Vapor Rub in tissues. Sort of comforting when you have a cold, but I think it would drive me nuts to have them stinking up my purse or bed stand. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-55691577462269608342016-10-01T20:43:00.002-05:002016-10-01T20:47:08.137-05:00Seneca Falls<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am now in the Finger Lakes area of New York state. I'm at Cayuga Lake State Park which is on the north end of Cayuga Lake. We are talking a 38 mile long lake. Twice a day Miko and I walk down to the shore and Miko tries her luck at wave-catching.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Women's Rights National Historic Park</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I don't know what happened here in the mid-1800s, but this area was a hotbed of progressive thinking. This is where some of the modern day greats lived and it was from here that they changed the landscape of the U.S. I am talking about five women who got together and worked for Women's Rights. The first Women's Rights Convention took place in Seneca Falls in 1848. To imagine how this changed the social and economic fabric of our country is unbelievable. Remember, back in 1848, women could not own property, women had no rights to their children, they could not vote or sign contracts, husbands and fathers directed every aspect of their lives. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Five women whose names should be remembered:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Elizabeth Cady Stanton</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Lucretia Mott</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Mary Ann M'Clintock</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jane Hunt </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Martha Coffin Wright</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">came together and presented a Declaration of Sentiments which was based on the Declaration of Independence. This Declaration was the foundation of many of our common rights we enjoy today. I found this very moving, maybe because even though I knew most of the status of women, it was brought home to me how bad it was, how far we have come and how far we have to go. These women were brave beyond belief.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nj2pHvo-DKs/V_BW4SOj06I/AAAAAAAAElM/1fim8-thZ8Mke0wmLaYxfdkn9t2XF4AAACLcB/s1600/IMG_2451%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nj2pHvo-DKs/V_BW4SOj06I/AAAAAAAAElM/1fim8-thZ8Mke0wmLaYxfdkn9t2XF4AAACLcB/s640/IMG_2451%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Suffragist Flag: Purple is the color of loyalty, constancy to purpose, unswerving steadfastness to a cause. White, the emblem of purity, symbolizes the quality of our purpose; and gold, the color of light and life, is as the torch that guides our purpose, pure and unswerving</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dKt2TJLoKgk/V_BW4DAtgeI/AAAAAAAAElI/nLVTlvwr3fsd7y0_hUScS_ZWNX_qyq8SQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2452%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dKt2TJLoKgk/V_BW4DAtgeI/AAAAAAAAElI/nLVTlvwr3fsd7y0_hUScS_ZWNX_qyq8SQCLcB/s640/IMG_2452%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life size statues of The Movement Leaders - notice Frederick Douglass is there</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">Fun fact: One of the prominent woman who joined the movement was Amelia Bloomer, who edited a temperance journal called The Lily. In 1851, bloomers became all the craze among progressive fashionistas.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7a1gUXogGiA/V_Blpn8kTWI/AAAAAAAAElg/tdVIfWUXceo_xCPsrBrMigk2H-j706IgwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2468%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7a1gUXogGiA/V_Blpn8kTWI/AAAAAAAAElg/tdVIfWUXceo_xCPsrBrMigk2H-j706IgwCLcB/s640/IMG_2468%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1851 Bloomer Craze</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">Seneca Falls is built along the Cayuga-Seneca canal and the town has put a nature trail along the banks. They have also added sculptures which I guess makes it an art/nature trail. I didn't care much for the sculptures, but by going to go do the trail, I came across “The Bridge”.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">Seneca Falls also claims that it is the inspiration for the movie “It's A Wonderful Life” staring Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed. The bridge figures conspicuously in the movie. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">True story: a young woman through herself off this bridge trying to commit suicide. A young Italian immigrant, Antonio, saw this, pulled off his jacket and jumped into the freezing water. He reached the young woman and brought her toward shore where another man on shore grabbed the woman and finished bringing her to dry land. As soon as the man on shore grabbed the woman, Antonio slipped beneath the water and drowned. Every year, the town celebrates Antonio's sacrifice. The town was so grateful that they raised funds to bring the rest of Antonio's family over from Italy to the United States. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en">Frank Capra comes to town and hears this story. He was developing a movie based on a book called “The Greatest Gift”. There are so many coincidences between Seneca Falls and the movie that Seneca Falls calls itself the Real Bedford Mills. They also have an excellent museum called funny enough – It's A Wonderful Life Museum”. They take each of the actors, discuss their role in the movie and then talk about what happened with the rest of their career. I probably spent a couple of hours there.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rnxl64VuCvY/V_BlorPhjjI/AAAAAAAAElc/30--bDw6J9UPFX5TggrabHhmtMjFvnwFgCLcB/s1600/IMG_2467%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rnxl64VuCvY/V_BlorPhjjI/AAAAAAAAElc/30--bDw6J9UPFX5TggrabHhmtMjFvnwFgCLcB/s640/IMG_2467%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's A Wonderful Life Bridge - Don't Jump George Bailey, Don't Jump!!!</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156588521927806175.post-21535995426203942262016-09-28T14:31:00.000-05:002016-09-28T14:31:48.204-05:00Waterfalls - Glorious Waterfalls<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Letchworth State Park in western New York, besides being voted 'Best State Park in the Nation”, is known as the Grand Canyon of the East. I think perhaps somebody has a few delusions of grandeur. That is not to say that this place is not impressive and beautiful, but it might be a little bit of a stretch. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The campground has eight loops in it and if you are traveling with a pet, you are limited to only three loops. Doesn't make too much sense to me because it seems to me that the majority of people are traveling with a pet. I am currently in a pet loop but there is a non pet loop right out my back window. Go figure. This is also the first campground where I have had to produce Miko's rabies certificate. Ohio doesn't let you drink in their campgrounds and New York wants your paperwork all in order. Different priorities I guess. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">During the Depression, this park had three CCC work camps and the stone work along the paths is impressive as are all of the buildings. On one of the sites of a work camp, they have a statue and informational signs all telling us about the Civilian Conservation Corps.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Letchworth is a park that is about fourteen miles long. The campground is in the north end and almost everything else you might want to do here is in the southernmost three-four miles. Since the speed limit in the park is only 25 miles an hour, it takes about thirty minutes to get down to the sights. I spent most of my time on the trails and because Miko was with me and not allowed in the buildings, I did not go into the people buildings such as restaurants(yes, this park had sit down restaurants), museums and nature centers. We just stuck to the trails. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The main sights, besides the gorge itself are three waterfalls- Upper, Middle and Lower. Miko and I hiked to each of them, plus a few other trails. I think Miko actually got a little tired hiking. Usually I'm the one giving up. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The rest of this post is going to be nothing but pictures. It was a beautiful place to spend a few days.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1STROPtdMYo/V-ruw8V3I9I/AAAAAAAAEj4/A0Bqsj8mdng1gZqAY3wZ_m1hMxSfvi7zwCEw/s1600/IMG_2368%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1STROPtdMYo/V-ruw8V3I9I/AAAAAAAAEj4/A0Bqsj8mdng1gZqAY3wZ_m1hMxSfvi7zwCEw/s640/IMG_2368%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miko Ears</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-td1I5WU1_tw/V-ruyOolVDI/AAAAAAAAEj8/1jS6uPAH3Ho1H_88wYvUMz2118jKVsAgQCEw/s1600/IMG_2384%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-td1I5WU1_tw/V-ruyOolVDI/AAAAAAAAEj8/1jS6uPAH3Ho1H_88wYvUMz2118jKVsAgQCEw/s640/IMG_2384%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper Falls - that is a railroad bridge that they are in the process of replacing.&nbsp; </td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ju6NaMtV1tU/V-rwFGaF1hI/AAAAAAAAEkE/R4HD-FdYFGw-6BWsnJlr1YHn8lX3cUh4gCLcB/s1600/IMG_2385%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ju6NaMtV1tU/V-rwFGaF1hI/AAAAAAAAEkE/R4HD-FdYFGw-6BWsnJlr1YHn8lX3cUh4gCLcB/s640/IMG_2385%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper Falls without the bridge - I like it better this way</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jowX82TXE8c/V-rwGx4RkmI/AAAAAAAAEkI/7m-6h0blrIY1Cek0DcVAnj8IykWdfbSNACLcB/s1600/IMG_2401%2Bmiddle%2Bfalls%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jowX82TXE8c/V-rwGx4RkmI/AAAAAAAAEkI/7m-6h0blrIY1Cek0DcVAnj8IykWdfbSNACLcB/s640/IMG_2401%2Bmiddle%2Bfalls%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>Middle Falls - these have a 107 foot drop</div><div><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-29ujOktnaJM/V-soqqNhUqI/AAAAAAAAEkY/kL2LTeGNViQPB4lEh4a4QOPKbn5gfMe4QCLcB/s1600/IMG_2404%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-29ujOktnaJM/V-soqqNhUqI/AAAAAAAAEkY/kL2LTeGNViQPB4lEh4a4QOPKbn5gfMe4QCLcB/s640/IMG_2404%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LL2NbEUwklA/V-sotxg3sMI/AAAAAAAAEkc/yq4V071F1mwoVegeqGJfFGUkkU4829rDgCLcB/s1600/IMG_2409%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LL2NbEUwklA/V-sotxg3sMI/AAAAAAAAEkc/yq4V071F1mwoVegeqGJfFGUkkU4829rDgCLcB/s640/IMG_2409%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from Inspiration Point - Middle Falls up front, Upper Falls way up on top</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9k2bKRAPhgE/V-spWfMRzSI/AAAAAAAAEkg/8Q364qzOkMAnsaNxgp8X-efzlYTYfISuwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2410%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9k2bKRAPhgE/V-spWfMRzSI/AAAAAAAAEkg/8Q364qzOkMAnsaNxgp8X-efzlYTYfISuwCLcB/s640/IMG_2410%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Which way should I go?&nbsp; I took the not so easy way which was much more satisfying</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bJQrzmAUqwE/V-spX4Y2WNI/AAAAAAAAEkk/XzK30qns_NU1jGxXtCoKm3v6WRuQ77PAQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2418%2Blower%2Bfalls%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bJQrzmAUqwE/V-spX4Y2WNI/AAAAAAAAEkk/XzK30qns_NU1jGxXtCoKm3v6WRuQ77PAQCLcB/s640/IMG_2418%2Blower%2Bfalls%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lower Falls</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c3C0dmHWKvE/V-spz8T63DI/AAAAAAAAEko/E6r_vPpQArcDtLWAt79YzMGg6eORkCkjwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2419%2Bview%2Bfrom%2Blower%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c3C0dmHWKvE/V-spz8T63DI/AAAAAAAAEko/E6r_vPpQArcDtLWAt79YzMGg6eORkCkjwCLcB/s640/IMG_2419%2Bview%2Bfrom%2Blower%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qMYA0QLitA0/V-spzyrZ8uI/AAAAAAAAEks/MHdX5C2rBEkXpNgGDiKkj1oYp4UQqEI3QCLcB/s1600/IMG_2425%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qMYA0QLitA0/V-spzyrZ8uI/AAAAAAAAEks/MHdX5C2rBEkXpNgGDiKkj1oYp4UQqEI3QCLcB/s640/IMG_2425%2Brs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only bridge crossing the gorge, built by the CCC</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tw4zhpWgC3I/V-sqYDslj8I/AAAAAAAAEkw/hxL70TezzMAbYXWdvmT6G61x1IOSqUxsACLcB/s1600/IMG_2442%2Brs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tw4zhpWgC3I/V-sqYDslj8I/AAAAAAAAEkw/hxL70TezzMAbYXWdvmT6G61x1IOSqUxsACLcB/s640/IMG_2442%2Brs.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miko looking way way down the gorge</td></tr></tbody></table><br />What a glorious place Letchworth is.&nbsp;Can you imagine what it must look like when the leaves change? &nbsp;Miko and I are the luckiest ever to be able to see this.&nbsp; </div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08720127186306570676noreply@blogger.com0